they honestly couldve done so much with junpei beheaded/dismembered and im disappointed that it ended up just being mira. so much of his character and his relationship with akane is characterized by his lack of bodily autonomy, and him being openly beheaded during the nonary games would be the ultimate example of this. its perhaps the most brutal death in the game, and it never really gets explained or developed beyond the one puzzle that we get with it. junpei has been shown repeatedly to be subject to akane's plans or follow her blindly and i just think that would have been a really interesting angle to approach his beheading from. junpei has willingly signed up for nonary games in two different timelines just because he knew he would see her. he was infected with a deadly virus trying to find her. he grew desensitized to death as he took underground jobs to try and find her. his safety always comes second when shes in the picture, and his beheading wouldve been a prime opportunity to 1. exploit his willingness to let himself die/be injured for her and 2. make akane confront the fact that her confidence that junpei will always follow after her is not necessarily a positive thing.

Calculated Risk

A gift for the wonderful @skylar102. 

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale Rating: Explicit Warnings: Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die, Mildly Dubious Consent.  Summary: “Will I survive?” Derek whined behind him, his grip on Stiles' wrist tightening. Stiles couldn’t look at him, knowing one glance might change his mind. 

The Queen considered his question, tilting her head at him. “You will survive if you’re in love.”

READ ON AO3 OR UNDER THE CUT

It hadn’t been Stiles’ idea to team up with Derek, it never really was. He would have much rathered the company of, well, literally any other member of the pack. Derek was broody and grumpy and scowled at Stiles more than he thought he deserved. Sure, the looks were justified sometimes, but not every single time he opened his mouth. Derek seemed to have it out for him and Stiles couldn’t figure him out. 

It didn’t help that while Stiles wanted to hate Derek’s shitty attitude, he couldn’t help but notice how insanely attractive he was. It should have been illegal, really. He should have had the right to call his dad and have Derek arrested (again) for how ridiculously good looking the guy was. He was six feet of bulging muscles, smooth skin, and actual sex, by definition. Stiles shook his head to clear the very vivid imagery of Derek in his mind as they stopped in front of the lake behind the preserve. 

“This is it,” Derek said, motioning toward the water. Stiles looked around and pursed his lips before glancing up at Derek.

“The way into a fairy realm is a lake? I thought it would have been more exciting than that,” Stiles said, his voice dripping with disappointment as he crouched down to let his fingers graze over the water. Before he had a chance to touch it, Derek was hauling up by the back of his shirt. “Hey, man, what the--” Instead of an explanation, Derek kicked a rock into the water. It sizzled, the water bubbling where it landed before the rock came shooting out, directly past Stiles’ head. Stiles’ eyes widened as he followed its trajectory, reaching down to pick it up. He hissed and dropped it, shaking out his hand as it burned. 

“The seelie’s don’t like anyone entering without their consent,” Derek muttered as he rolled his eyes in Stiles’ direction. 

“No one does,” Stiles joked, rolling his own eyes when Derek glared at him. “C’mon, man. We’re about to enter a portal to another fucking realm! Can’t you at least pretend to be excited?” Stiles scoffed as Derek completely ignored him in favor of grabbing his hand. For the first time, maybe in his life, Stiles was stunned into silence. Derek seemed surprised by it, too, as he turned toward Stiles and raised an eyebrow. 

“The portal is going to open any second and we have to go in together. Don’t let go of my hand.” Stiles didn’t have to be told twice as he felt the portal opening, a cool breeze hitting his face on the otherwise windless day. “Ready?” Derek asked, gripping onto Stiles’ hand tighter. Stiles squeezed back as a green glow overtook his vision. He covered his eyes with his unoccupied arm before he felt himself being tugged viciously, like something was trying to pull him away from Derek. He pulled himself closer to Derek, keeping his eyes closed to the brightness around them and wrapping his other arm around Derek’s bicep. He knew it wasn’t the time to think about how large it was in his grip, but that didn’t stop him. 

“Derek!” Stiles shouted as he felt his feet hit ground once again, the impact enough to have him tumbling out of Derek’s grip. He landed on his stomach, the breath leaving his lungs at the impact, his hands catching him before his head could slam into the ground. He inhaled deeply and shook the fear out of his head as he felt a comforting hand on his back. 

“I’m here, we’re here,” Derek said, his voice sounding distant. Stiles looked up to see him taking in their surroundings with wide eyes. It was beautiful, wherever they had landed. They were surrounded by tangled vines, bright flowers, and the greenest grass Stiles had ever seen. Through a perfect arch of branches, Stiles could see movement behind a hanging sheer cloth. He got up, using Derek’s shoulder to stand and stared, trying to hear what the voices were saying. “I can’t hear them either,” Derek noted as he took a step forward. Stiles reached out and grabbed his arm again, stopping him from moving further. Derek turned to him with a glare. 

“Are we sure that’s where we’re supposed to go?” Stiles asked. Derek stared at him and Stiles used the silence to think. He figured that was exactly what Derek wanted him to do when Stiles nodded. “They had to consent for us to be here. They wouldn’t throw us where we weren’t wanted,” Stiles muttered. Derek nodded slowly and took a deep breath before moving forward again. Stiles stayed close behind, observing the way the surroundings seemed to move with them, like everything was alive, swaying in perfect synchrony. He noticed the bushes and moss filling in behind them with every step they took. Stiles tugged on the hem of Derek’s shirt and nodded his head behind them. Derek seemed unconcerned and on his own mission, pulling back the curtain. 

“The alpha brought his mate,” a woman said, her voice smoother than silk. Stiles was immediately enamoured by it, even more so when he saw her. She was dressed in leaves and flowers, but only in the most specific of places. Stiles blushed and looked away, opting to stare at the center of Derek’s back, noting the way the material stretched between his shoulder blades. He heard the woman snicker as she waved off the men beside her who Stiles realized were pointing spears at them. Great. 

“We’re here for the ataexlor,” Derek said, straight to the point as always. Stiles chanced a glance up at the woman, whose mouth formed a smirk through the tight line of her lips. 

“I know why you’re here, Derek Hale,” she sang as she stood, walking delicately down the stone steps leading to her throne. One of the petite women next to her, offered her a hand to guide her down. She accepted it and once she reached the soft grass, she thanked the woman with a messy kiss, the only sound to be heard in the small circle of trees. Stiles licked his lips and felt his heart beating quicker. Derek growled lowly, something only Stiles could probably hear, and Stiles sent him a desperate glance. 

“I can’t help it,” Stiles whispered, pushing closer to Derek as the woman pulled off, wiping a thumb across the other woman’s lips. The other woman looked like she was on cloud nine, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and her body shivering erratically. Stiles let out a shaky breath as the woman stepped even closer. Derek stepped to meet her, angling his body in front of Stiles and it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Not his mate, just his…” Derek snarled as the woman reached out a hand toward Stiles’ face and Stiles thought he caught a glimpse of fangs. 

“We’re not here to play games, Queen. Deaton said you had the ataexlor and we’re here to claim it,” Derek explained, his voice the epitome of an alpha. Stiles couldn’t let it get to him as it usually did, not when the Queen was eyeing him curiously. 

“How is my good friend, Deaton?” Her voice was sickly sweet, but Stiles knew it was an act. She carried herself like so many villains he had faces and he could stand a little taller once he saw her as one. Stiles also knew that she was uninterested in Derek, choosing to keep her perfectly green eyes locked on his. 

“As smart as ever,” Stiles chimed. “He didn’t let us leave without giving us your warning label. Don’t eat or drink anything, beware of the… well, everything. And most importantly, don’t fall for the Queen’s tricks,” Stiles listed off, moving so he was beside Derek, an equal party in the confrontation. The Queen’s laughter echoed through the air as the other seelie’s joined in. 

“I thought you must be Stiles. I’ve heard about you. The spark of the Hale pack, but the weakest link. Always the protected, never the protector.” Stiles grimaced at the Queen’s own list as he glared. If he could growl like Derek, he would have. He didn’t need to be protected. Before he could say as much, Derek cleared his throat. 

“Do you have it or not? Deaton also warned us to get in and get out, with or without the ataexlor,” Derek said, his tone clearly bored. Stiles knew it was all a show. They needed the herb as an antidote to whatever was currently poisoning Lydia’s banshee blood. He held his face steady, though, not willing to risk the Queen finding them out from him. She laughed again, the noise sounding more evil every time it bubbled from her chest. 

“Deaton is just a fountain of knowledge, isn’t he?” She said, impressed. Stiles tilted his head at her and nodded in agreement. “He must have told you that all of my gifts come with a price, didn’t he?” Stiles nodded again, this time along with Derek. 

“Name your price,” Derek said sternly. He crossed his arms over his chest, his intense gaze never straying from the Queen’s. Unfortunately for Stiles, the Queen’s eyes still bore into his.

“This one,” she said simply. Stiles gaped at her as a growl erupted in Derek’s throat. “Relax, alpha. I just want to give him a… gift,” she said innocently. Derek’s growl didn’t subside as she stepped closer. Derek moved further in front of him and Stiles could see his claws had retracted and ready to slash with one wrong movement. He placed a comforting hand on Derek’s arm and pushed in front of him. 

“What kind of gift?” Stiles asked. He wasn't about to say no until he had all of the answers. Derek sent him a pleading glance, like he was asking Stiles to let him handle it. Stiles shook him off, pressing a hand to his chest to hold him back. “I have questions.” The Queen clapped her hands in delight and snapped her fingers. A different woman moved forward, a yellow and blue flower in her hand. Stiles went to reach for it, but Derek grabbed his wrist. 

“Stiles,” he said, his tone filled with warning and concern. Stiles shook his head as the Queen grabbed the flower. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Stiles nodded in agreement as he studied it. It looked harmless, but yet, so did she. 

“What does it do?” Stiles asked accusingly. The Queen pouted at him and shook her head. “I know you can’t lie to me, so tell me what it will do to me if I take it.” Stiles held himself high, puffing his chest out with an unwavering gaze at the Queen. 

She hummed. “It affects everyone differently, so unfortunately for both of us, I can’t answer that question.” Stiles nodded, considering. He licked his lips before taking another step closer. He felt Derek move with him and was reassured by it. 

“What do you want me to do with it?” The Queen smirked and held it out in her palm. Her long fingernails were painted green and covered in moss and Stiles thought that Lydia would like that look. At the thought of Lydia, he gulped. “Will it hurt me?” The Queen giggled again, joined in by the group, something that was becoming increasingly more annoying with the tension growing in Stiles’ shoulders. 

“To answer your first question, I just want you to smell it. That’s all.” Stiles knew it wasn’t that simple, but he needed to hear her out. “As far as the second, that depends on what you consider to be hurtful, Stiles,” the Queen said smoothly. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth. Stiles glared at her and refocused. 

“Will I survive?” Derek whined behind him, his grip on Stiles’ wrist tightening. Stiles couldn’t look at him, knowing one glance might change his mind. 

The Queen considered his question, tilting her head at him. “You will survive if you’re in love.” Stiles froze, his heart skipping and the breath pushing out of his lungs. It wasn’t a choice for Stiles anymore. He was frustratingly aware of how close Derek was to him, his back pressing into his shoulder, like a silent plea for him to think it through. Stiles glanced back at him and smiled, shaking his head. If only he knew, Stiles thought sadly.  

“Stiles, it’s not worth it…” Derek’s voice trailed off as Stiles leaned forward and breathed in deeply. He felt the barely visible particles enter his system and the sweetest scent he’d ever smelled filled his lungs. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his head tilted back, his entire body bursting with pleasure, more than he had felt in his entire life. Every hair on his body stood at high alert, his skin tingled and electricity jolted down his spine and straight to his cock. He felt himself harden as his body trembled. It was too much and just enough to have him stumbling back into Derek. His back hit Derek’s solid chest and Stiles gasped. Before he could think about his actions, he turned, grasping onto Derek’s shoulders and gazing into his eyes. His hips pushed forward uncontrollably and he gasped at the feeling. He turned quickly, his face reddening either from embarrassment or the heat now racing through his veins. 

“Give Derek the ataexlor and let us leave. Please,” he begged. He needed to get away, away from this realm, away from the Queen, away from Derek. He had to get away from Derek. Even his eyes that were searching Stiles’ caused a surge of pleasure to shoot through his spine. When he turned back to the Queen, she was blurry, covered in a haze of yellow. He blinked quickly before he sent a pleading glance at Derek, who was as clear as ever. “Derek, please!” Stiles yelled as the Queen held out a small vial. 

“What is happening to him?” Derek asked as he grabbed the bottle from the Queen. She tilted her head in amusement and waved a hand in dismissal. 

“It seems our dear Stiles is in love,” she noted, clearly pleased with herself. Stiles groaned, the pleasure weaving with the pain as his dick pressed uncomfortably to the front of his jeans, begging to be released. 

“How do I make it stop?” Derek pleaded, holding Stiles up with an arm around his waist. The light press of Derek’s arm felt like it was burning a line into his skin and he breathed deeply, trying to compose himself enough to focus. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything but Derek, his name spinning around Stiles’ mind like a skipping record. 

“Only the one he loves can save him,” she shouted as Derek led him out through the arch, the material brushing his skin like sandpaper. “Let’s see if Stiles is as smart and courageous as I’ve heard.” It was the last thing Stiles heard before the familiar cold breeze hit his face for the second time. He closed his eyes, trying to hold in the sounds of bliss wanting to escape as the frigid air hit his scorching skin. When he opened his eyes, the sun blinded him, but no more than the light that seemed to emanate from Derek. The feeling overtook him as he launched at Derek, pressing his lips into his neck before sucking what might have left a bruise if Derek wasn’t as fast a healer. 

“Derek, please, I need--” Derek shook his head abruptly and picked Stiles up, the motion enough to cut off Stiles’ words with a loud moan as he was carried to the jeep a few feet away. With every step, Stiles’ dick slid against the rough cloth of his jeans and he whined, tears springing to his eyes. 

“We need to get you to Lydia,” Derek said sternly. The keep rumbled alive and Stiles groaned, throwing his head back against the seat. It felt like a panic attack, like he couldn’t control his breathing and his heartbeat was rising with every second. And all he wanted was for Derek’s hands to be on him, touching him in any way they could. Stiles was lucid enough to think back to Derek’s words. He didn’t really think… 

“Lydia, what? Derek, I don’t--” Derek pressed a hand to his forehead and Stiles leaned into the touch, feeling a small amount of relief that was enough for him to take a gasping breath. 

“You’re burning up,” Derek said worriedly. Stiles nodded and reached for Derek’s hand, but the touch was gone. Stiles whined at the loss, pouting at Derek with desperation in his eyes. “It’s okay, Stiles. It’s okay,” Derek reassured. He moved his hand to Stiles’ knee and even through the haze of pleasure clouding his eyes, he registered Derek’s claws, like Derek was having a hard time controlling himself, too. He pressed Derek’s hand down, the claws pressing into his skin, ripping through the fabric of his jeans. Derek tried to tug his hand away, but Stiles pressed harder, spreading his legs and pushing his thigh into Derek’s grip. The localized pain was helping and Stiles couldn’t explain why, wanting to when Derek looked at him with concern. 

“Please,” Stiles begged pathetically. Derek sighed deeply and nodded before his eyes cemented to the road. The minute his claws disappeared, Stiles tugged at his hand, moving it up his thigh and pushing it to the bulge in his jeans. Derek gulped and Stiles watched him, pupils blown and a loud moan echoing through the car. “Not-- Lydia, please,” Stiles begged. Derek’s hand stilled before he ripped it away. Stiles whimpered, reaching for the one thing easing his pain as Derek turned into the lot. 

“We’re almost to Lydia, just… We’re almost there,” Derek said, his voice shaking uncharacteristically as he raced up the too long driveway. 

“No, Dere--” He slammed on the brakes before hastily putting the car into park and Stiles hissed as the seat belt pressed into his heaving chest. Derek grabbed the vial from the center console and sprinted to the passengers seat just as Scott ran out of the building. 

“I could smell him from upstairs. What the hell did you do?” Scott accused as he grabbed at Stiles’ arm. Scott’s touch seared against his heated skin and Stiles whimpered, instinctively lunging out for Derek. Derek’s eyes widened in shock as Stiles ran into his arms, pressing his face into Derek’s chest, his hands scratching down Derek’s abs before he rutted against him, small cries passing through his lips. Any semblance of composure was eradicated from him as he pushed his cock along Derek’s thigh, his groans the only sound he could hear. 

“He’s an idiot!” Derek shouted as they sprinted up the stairs, dragging Stiles behind them. His lungs struggled in an attempt to catch the breath that seemed to push out of him faster each moment. When they entered the loft, Stiles collapsed on the floor, gripping at Derek’s hand as he fell. Derek kneeled beside him and held his head delicately in his lap. Stiles felt desperate; desperate for Derek’s touch, his kiss, his cock. He tilted his head enough to press his lips against the hardness in Derek’s own jeans. He bit down on Derek’s thigh when Derek’s fingers squeezed the back of his neck, his eyes screaming for more as he glanced up. Derek’s eyes were glowing red, his mouth open as he stared down at Stiles.

“What did it look like? What did he eat?” Deaton shouted as he kneeled beside them and pressed his hand against Stiles’ head. Stiles hissed at the unwelcome touch and sent a pleading glance at Derek as he bit down on his lip, trying to focus on Derek’s hands, the way they stroked over his hair. He leaned into the comforting touch. “Scott, get a cold cloth. Ice, if possible. Derek!” He yelled again. Everything around Stiles was murky, a cloud of mist surrounding everyone except for Derek. Derek was as clear as the outside sky, his presence the only thing keeping Stiles from losing the rest of the world in his daze. Derek’s eyes were red, sending surges of pure electricity down his spine, his skin burning where Derek’s hands rested. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Stiles needed Derek, his alpha, and he reached a desperate hand up Derek’s chest, gripping tightly onto the collar of his shirt to try and tug his face down. 

“Yellow. Blue. A flower? He didn’t eat it!” Derek stuttered, pulling Stiles’ fingers from his shirt and lacing them together, his thumb sliding against the back of Stiles’ hand. It might as well have been touching his cock and Stiles had to close his eyes during his gasp. “She said… She said it would affect him if he was in love and only the person he was in love with could help him. Deaton, what--” Deaton sighed as Scott pressed an ice cube to Stiles’ forehead. He tried to say thank you, but only a soft hiss escaped. He needed, wanted, Derek, only Derek. His thoughts were swirling uncontrollably and he felt the blood boiling in his veins. 

“Derek, please, Derek, Derek, Derek,” Stiles couldn’t stop his name from flowing, desperate cries on his lips. Stiles barely registered the way Scott’s eyes flashed beyond the blurriness. Stiles felt, for the first time since they left the Seelie Realm, that he would get what he needed. Derek. Derek. Derek. 

“Where’s Lydia? He needs--” Stiles heard the snarl that interrupted Derek’s search. Derek growled, moving to stand, but Stiles thought he might die if Derek stopped touching him. He whined frantically, digging his nails into the skin at Derek’s waist. 

“He doesn’t need Lydia. He needs you!” Scott yelled. Stiles felt Derek tense, the hand on his back pressing harder. Stiles knew it wasn’t a good time to moan but Derek’s palm felt so good on the fabric of his shirt, he couldn’t begin to imagine how good it would feel on his skin. He heard Scott growl lowly and pressed his face further into Derek’s side. He needed skin, his own was screaming for it, so he pushed up Derek’s shirt with his face and pressed his cheek into Derek’s warmth. “The only person who can save him is you, Derek. And he’s too… too fucked up to tell you himself. So, I’m risking his wrath by telling you that he needs you.” Stiles whined, crawling further into Derek’s lap and nodding furiously. He couldn’t bring himself to care that the feelings Stiles had tried so hard to hide were out in the open. Not when it meant that Derek would finally touch him. 

“He’s burning up,” Deaton commented, his voice not nearly as panicked as Stiles thought the situation warranted. Typical. “The Queen often uses paclyan as a weapon. It causes a visceral need for… release.” 

“Release,” Derek repeated slowly. Stiles saw the realization wash across his face. As if testing the new knowledge, Derek ran his hand up Stiles back, over his shoulder and across his neck. His thumb brushed against Stiles’ lips and Stiles couldn’t resist pulling it into his mouth, his tongue circling around it as he sucked. He pushed his hips against the floor, needing some kind of pressure on his aching cock. He could feel himself seeping through his jeans and he sent another pleading look at Derek. “Stiles…” Derek said in disbelief. Stiles heard the loft door slide open and close, indicating the others had left and finally let out the impressively loud moan he’d been trying so hard to keep inside. 

“Please, Derek. It’s you, I need you, I need--” He panted, the words molding together as he crawled up Derek’s body, straddling his knee and rutting against it. Derek’s hot breath brushed against his lips and it felt like heaven. “Help me, please,” Stiles begged. Derek stood, picking Stiles up with him and Stiles’ wrapped his legs around his waist, a whimper of thanks in response. His lips worked over Derek’s neck; biting, sucking, licking until he felt his back hit the softness of Derek’s sheets. He squirmed against them, his hands reaching blindly around as Derek’s hard body was gone. 

“I’ve got you. It’s okay, Stiles,” Derek whispered, “you’re gonna be okay.” He felt the button of his jeans unlatch and the zipper pull down and he thought he might cry. He felt the string of hot tears flowing down his cheeks, but couldn’t wipe them away, not when Derek was sliding the offensive clothing off his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage, hitting his stomach with a wet plop. The noise sounded almost as desperate as Stiles felt. 

“Oh, god, please, Derek, please,” Stiles pleaded, his hands grasping at the pillows behind him before pulling one over his face, covering it to hide the shame he felt at his desperation. He bit into the fabric to stop another embarrassing moan from leaving his lips as Derek’s palms slid up his thighs. The pillow disappeared, allowing his panicked moan to escape, a mixture of curses and Derek’s name sputtering from his lips. He glanced down just as Derek licked a stripe up his cock, cleaning him of the excess amount of come that had already leaked out of him. Stiles felt like a puddle, melting into the mattress as his skin cooled at even the smallest of licks. 

“Let me know if I have to stop,” Derek said. Stiles didn’t have time to answer, to tell him that he never wanted him to stop, before Derek took him into his mouth. He swallowed Stiles down until his cock glided down the back of his throat. He sucked, his tongue massaging what it could as Stiles grip tore the sheets underneath him. He knew he was shouting Derek’s name over and over again, no coherent thoughts left in his head, but he couldn’t stop. Derek’s hot mouth had barely started and Stiles was coming down his throat. He felt Derek swallow around his cock and let out an unsteady breath, wiping a hand over the sweat dripping down his forehead. “So good, Stiles. So good for me,” Derek cooed as he pulled back, pressing the softest kisses to every inch of Stiles’ skin that he could reach. Stiles whimpered, still hard, cock twitching with each press of lips, Derek’s words rushing through him like fire. 

“More, I need-- Please, more, Derek,” Stiles chanted, gripping at the collar of Derek’s shirt and pulling him up, his body a welcome weight on Stiles’. He leaned forward with the intention of finally being able to taste Derek, but he turned his face away in favor of leaning down to nip at Stiles’ neck. Stiles thrusted up into him as Derek bit down on the skin over his collarbone, hissing at the small spikes of pain. 

“Everything, I’ll give you everything,” Derek said. He sounded about as wrecked as Stiles felt, but he couldn’t focus on it as Derek pushed himself up and pulled off his shirt. The sensation of Derek’s skin on his had Stiles biting down painfully on his bottom lip. Derek thrusted into him, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing torturously over Stiles still hard cock. 

“Fuck me, please, Derek, I can’t, I can’t--” Stiles felt his breath pushing out in gasps as Derek kneeled in front of him. Stiles spread his knees, watching as Derek undid his jeans with one hand, the other reaching for something next to him on the bed. Stiles’ vision was clearing with every pleasurable touch and he took that as a good sign as he was able to watch Derek lube up his own hard cock. 

“Just a little bit longer, okay?” Derek said comfortingly. Stiles wiggled his hips, widening his legs even more as Derek ran a slippery finger over his hole. He gasped loudly, his hips leaving the mattress, searching for Derek. Everything in him was screaming for Derek to fuck him, to finally fill him. Derek shushed him lightly and pressed his hips down with a hand on his abdomen. Stiles nodded, biting down on his lip harder than the last time. He could taste the blood he had drawn, but he ignored the taste, unable to focus on it when Derek pushed two fingers into him. They slid in easily, but Stiles wasn’t surprised. He was ready for Derek, ready to take all of him, every inch of his solid length, without any prep. 

“Now! Now, Derek, please!” He shouted out his pleas and Derek glanced up at him, like he was searching his eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation. Stiles knew he wouldn’t find any as he wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist and pulled him closer. When Derek pushed into him, Stiles' entire body flooded with bliss. It was an all too familiar feeling, similar to the pleasure that surged through him when he sniffed the flower. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck when he leaned down and pressed their chests flush together as Derek thrusted in and out of him, slowly at first, before Stiles quickened the pace with every desperate rut of his hips. 

“Fuck, Stiles, so good, you feel so good, you’re so good,” Derek said, each word punctuated with what felt like a deliberate slide against his prostate. Stiles scratched at Derek’s back, enough to draw blood on any other human and gripped onto him tighter and tighter as he felt his orgasm rising inside him. It wasn’t like anything he felt before, the sheer pleasure of it burning through his veins, his lungs, his throat. He released a feral scream as he came, exploding onto his stomach and chest. Derek leaned down and inhaled deeply, his tongue lapping at the liquid as he continued to thrust. 

“Derek, c’mon, fuck me. Derek, come inside me,” Stiles muttered as he bit down on the shell of Derek’s ear. He felt lucid, clear minded, finally in the moment as he took a deep breath. “Claim me,” Stiles whispered. And Derek did. He growled from somewhere low and deep inside him and clamped his teeth on Stiles’ neck, pulling Stiles up onto his lap and fucking him with everything in him. His arms gripped at Stiles’ back, his nails digging into the hot skin and his tongue lapping at the bite. 

Stiles tugged at his hair to pull his head back and rested his forehead on Derek’s, gazing into his eyes. That was enough for Derek to lose the sliver of control he had left, his cock spurting streams of come into Stiles’ hole. He felt it warm inside him and moaned at the sensation, his eyes shutting tightly. He figured if he hadn’t already come twice, he could have came again by the desperate noises and pants that left Derek’s mouth. 

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek’s voice was panicked and Stiles thought it was in regret until he felt Derek’s cock swelling inside of him. Derek tried to push away, but Stiles just held him closer. He knew what it meant, the fact that Derek’s knot was growing at the base of his cock. Derek groaned weakly, his forehead resting against the darkening bruise on Stiles’ neck. Stiles felt himself being filled with Derek’s seed, streams of Derek’s claim inside of him and he sighed happily. He turned his face and pressed a kiss against Derek’s head to try and calm both of their trembling. Stiles’ skin tingled in the aftershocks of his own orgasm, Derek’s hips thrusting at an inconsistent and slow rhythm, like he was savoring every brush on skin on skin. Stiles stroked at his hair, trying to tell him that it was okay, that he was okay, every touch gentler than the last. 

“Thank you, god, thank you, Derek,” Stiles said, his voice shaking with each word as he held Derek tighter to him. Stiles was grateful for the knot keeping them together, because he knew the minute Derek left the bed, he wouldn’t be able to explain himself. “I have to explain,” Stiles whispered as he nuzzled his face into Derek’s neck, pressing soft kisses to the sweat soaked skin and breathing in his scent. He smelled different like this, in the haze of sex surrounding them and Stiles wondered if Derek noticed the change, too. 

“You don’t--” Stiles bit down on his neck to stop him from talking before nudging Derek’s face to his with a press of his nose. 

“I do. I-- I took a chance, a calculated risk that had a few outcomes, all of which saved Lydia.” At the mention of Lydia’s name, Derek froze, the panic Stiles had been expecting flooding into his eyes. “The Queen asked me if I was in love and do you know why I didn’t answer?” Derek shook his head slowly, searching Stiles’ eyes. “If I answered, she would have hurt whoever I said. I know people like her, willing to manipulate everyone around them with knowledge. Hell, I am one of those people, but Derek, I couldn’t let her hurt you.”

“She hurt you, Stiles?! How is that any better?” Derek whispered, his voice still shaky and Stiles couldn’t tell if it was from fear or regret. He hoped it was from the mindblowing orgasm he knew he just had. 

“She asked me if I was in love and I knew she was going to use it to her advantage. I made the deliberate decision to let her believe that I would never admit I was in love. She took the bait and we’re okay.” Stiles knew he wasn’t explaining it correctly, especially when Derek sighed and rested their foreheads together, shaking his head. 

“Stiles, you could have died.” Stiles shook his own head and cupped Derek’s face in his hands. 

“She insinuated, in her own twisted way, that whoever I was in love with could save me,” Stiles said slowly. Derek opened his eyes and peered into Stiles’. Stiles sighed in response and smiled up at him. “I knew you would save me, whether you loved me or not, Derek. I trust you to save me. There was no doubt in my mind that you would come to my rescue, the way you always have, always do.” Derek seemed to understand, his eyes flashing red as he pushed his nose against Stiles’ cheek. Stiles took a deep breath to steady himself, urging Derek to look back to his eyes. When Derek did, he smiled widely and a soft, almost disbelieving chuckle left his lips. “I love you, Derek. And I’m sorry that you--” He couldn’t finish his apology as Derek’s lips captured his. The kiss was perfect, simple and soft, much different from their earlier activities and Stiles couldn’t help but sigh into it. Derek pulled away abruptly and Stiles’ pouted, opening his mouth to speak, but stopping when Derek raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Tell me this isn’t the flower talking,” Derek pleaded, a small twinge of nervousness in his voice that Stiles didn’t like to hear. 

“‘Only the one he loves can save him’,” Stiles relayed the Queen’s words back to Derek. He gestured toward his body, temperature back to normal, no more shivering or quaking, no more sweating, no more painfully aching arousal, and shook his head at Derek. “You saved me. That should be reassurance enough,” Stiles said. Derek nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to Stiles’ lips. 

“I love you, too,” Derek said after a few moments of silence. Stiles let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and pushed his head back into the pillow behind his head. 

“You do?” Stiles asked nervously. Derek peered down in the direction of their attached bodies and Stiles let out a large huff of laughter before pulling Derek’s lips to his again. If they were stuck for a little, he wasn’t about to let it go to waste. 

I just saw Wonder Woman and I want to ramble about it! Tagging @captaindicks because I was gonna message you and ask if I could ramble to you about it since you’ve seen it but there ended up being so much I like that I decided to just write a post. Spoilers under the cut!

- Kickass women. This is pretty self-evident and I don't even feel the need to discuss it. Which tells you how good the rest is, if this isn't even what really got me excited. Like, I expected this to be the main thing for me, and while I loved it, there's actually OTHER STUFF THAT I LOVED EVEN MORE - I loved the moral and messages. I really did. The message of there being good and evil in everyone and it being up to us to choose isn't new, but it's good, and I really liked it being entangled with the message that there's no single bad guy or source of evil that you can just eliminate and solve everything, that people are complex, situations are complex, wars are complex. Admittedly, if I had to criticize, the movie doesn't actually do a great job of SHOWING that complexity---the British are all good (except for the dude who is really Aries but he's not actually British) and the Germans all bad, and the motives of the Germans are never explored nor is there anyone on their side shown as equally human to the good guys...but I'll be honest, that's really more something I only thought of towards the very end of the movie. The pacing and action was such that there really wasn't room for additional development on the enemy side, with that all kind of being made up for at the end with the surprising motives of Ares, but I feel like the moment Diana kills Ludendorf and things don't just suddenly change works pretty well for the “people actually are making their own choices and it's a lot more complicated than just getting rid of the Big Bad” revelation (which is also shown in how she still has to be Wonder Woman even after killing Ares, because getting rid of Ares doesn't fix everything either) - Honestly, she reminded me a lot in the beginning of how I write Anne Marie? The super simplistic view of good/evil, not understanding the two co-exist in every person, and sincerely believing that everything will be good if we just do this very simple (and violent) solution against the Bad Guy (or Bad Guys, as Anne Marie sees it) And then when something challenges that view, she initially twists things around in her head to fit it (“This guy is super bad? He must really be the Big Bad!” “You're one of the good guys, and yet did something I disagree with or don't understand? Ares has corrupted you!”) which is something Anne Marie does (and something all people do to a degree, I think) The difference, of course, is that Wonder Woman actually LEARNS. She accepts the hard truth of how complex things are and that there's no easy answer, whereas Anne Marie can't handle that and just digs her heels in deeper so that she can hold on top hope---which Wonder Woman continues to do anyway without such a crutch (is than ableist phrase?) - I loved what they did with Ares. I loved his motivation. It was an utterly unique departure from ANY portrayal that I have ever seen in ANY media of Ares, and worked REALLY WELL and actually fit PERFECTLY with the theme of people having far more complex motives than just good or bad. I also really, really loved that he never actually “corrupted” or “infected” or “controlled” mankind in any way. Like, at the beginning of the movie, when Hippolyta told her story about how Ares twisted the hearts of man, I didn't like it because I don't like setups that essentially exonerate people from their choices, so I truly fucking LOVED how it ended up being subverted in the end. It reminds of Neil Gaiman's Lucifer, how he said “I never made any of them do anything. Not even once.” - As I said, one failing in the message about the complexities of people is that the Germans were all Totes Evil, but I still loved the small moments of humanity that got worked in for Dr. Poison and Ludendorf. Not goodness, just humanity, like you can see they were people with personalities and not just evil caricatures. The simple shot of Dr. Poison staring into the fireplace at the gala was enough for my heart to twinge for her. There's no words, no unpleasant imagery, no one is mean to her, yet I felt such sympathy for her because it's just...she's so clearly uncomfortable and out of place there? And it's easy to extrapolate why, she's the nerdy science person with a messed-up face. And she's here among all these socialites, and these beautiful civilian women. I think every nerd in the audience, especially nerd girls, can emphasize with that. And that's BEFORE a good-looking man walks up and starts seemingly showing interest in her, something that probably NEVER happens---you can tell she has really no idea how to react---and then she realizes he's looking at the far more beautiful lady across the room. And what I love is...none of this asks us to excuse her for her actions or make it seem like it's not her fault, it's not even related to her villainy in any way, it's just this one little scene that takes her out of her lab and out of her role as Dr. Poison and lets us see that, while also not forgetting it for a second. I also really liked that it didn't become some plot with her being jealous of Diana over Steve either, which I was kinda worried about when it happened, but it's obviously not ABOUT Steve at all, I don't think she was at all interested in him herself, but she can still be hurt when his interest in her is false and fleeting for a conventionally beautiful woman, because that is hurtful. On Ludendorf's end, I loved his encouraging relationship with Dr. Poison. I love how instead of acting like a stereotypical bad guy who goes “make the poison or you'll die!!!” he instead tells her that he has faith in her and reassures her of her talents---and I should point out, she's a woman in science during the 1910s, she probably has gone through a lot of people doubting her and telling her she shouldn't be doing this at all. I mean, she shouldn't be doing THIS, the horrible murder parts, but I mean doing science. And it's not romantic at all either, which I also super like. He just knows she's talented and is supportive of her. And this isn't used to make him seem sympathetic or less bad either, he's unquestionably evil as fuck. He's just an evil as fuck guy who is supportive to his evil as fuck colleague. And I really, really like that. - It seems to me that the real villain was the gas? Dr. Poison and Ludendorf are really just accessories to it, and Ares doesn't actually make an appearance or even truly do anything til the end, whereas the gas is a constant and present threat. I find that interesting, but can't totally articulate why. - I don't really get the use of the super-strength gas though, that ended up really not going anywhere and I don't think the movie would have been any different without it. Maybe it was meant to be a red herring or something. - I am nearly always disinterested in romance plots. This one was no exception. However, I also did not hate it. There was nothing that made groan or get critical or want to slap either party. I'll be honest, I was literally bracing myself for lots of shitty tropes that usually come when a romance involves a super-powerful woman, and I was especially worried that Steve would be shitty (in one of the animated Wonder Woman movies, he deliberately tries to get her drunk ffs) but I actually had no issues with Steve nor with their romance (and I really appreciate that it was secondary, nay, tertiary to everything else going on, rather than everything taking a backseat for the love story) and I did have Feels when he died. It was also unexpected when he died. This movie surprised me more than once with its choices and I really, really love being surprised. - I absolutely adored this version of Etta Candy, but her original 1940s comics version is still the best. Look her up, she's WONDERFUL. - This didn't hit me til just now, but was Diana posing as Steve's secretary a reference to how she was the secretary for the Justice League of America in the 1970s Super Friends cartoon? Yes, they made Wonder Woman the team secretary FOR REAL in the 1070s, I'm serious. My mom is STILL salty about that and I don't blame her. - I really loved how Diana's character was written. It was exactly what I was hoping for. When she's written at her best in the comics, she's an incredibly fierce and powerful warrior who is simultaneously the epitome of compassion. It's a really hard note to hit, and I notice in film especially, writers seem to have a hard time with women are meant to be tough and strong---they simply can't find balance with these traits, and that balance is ESSENTIAL for Wonder Woman. And this film did that. I also like how her primary weapons were her lassos and bracelets, and the sword ended up being useless. Because her lasso and her bracelets are perfect for her personality and what she stands for. The bracelets are deflectors, they're defensive, they're not actually weapons at all, yet they destroy weapons. And the lasso is a versatile, non-lethal tool. It can trip, bind, and subdue, but it does not injure or kill. Okay, you can wrap a person up and slam them into something and THAT hurts, but you know what I mean? - I also appreciated that there was no gratuitous sexualization or fan service, which I was also worried about. - I really like that it was directed by a woman. I know a woman will not AUTOMATICALLY do a better job on a movie just because it stars a woman, but it seems...fitting, for this specific case. - While I appreciate that the story got right to the action, I do wish we'd seen a LITTLE more of the Amazons, because what I liked about the original 1940s comics Amazons was that they weren't just a society of superior warriors, but also super scientists, super philosophers, etc. Later writers, such as Azzarello, have made them much more like the Amazons of myth (complete with gratuitous man-hating and throwing out male babies -eyeroll- They also seem to like having horrible things happen to the Amazon population en masse, to the point I really sideye it, but that's besides the point) but I think that these Amazons were probably like how they started in the original Paradise Island envision by the creator, given how they are shown to have a healer/nurse and how everyone studies multiple languages. It's clearly not just All Fighting All The Time. - I like the quick but significant acknowledgments of racism, with Samir having wanted to be an actor “but I am the wrong color” and the implication (to me) that this is why he's a con man (and getting to use those skills for good), and Chief saying how Steve's people took everything from his in the last war. These weren't things that the movie had to put in at all, but it did, and it's a small thing but I thought it was really great. Also cool fact about Chief, I forget which tribe his actor is, but all his jewelry is his ACTUAL stuff, it's not Hollywood props, so it's not a Hollywood stereotype of what a Native American would wear, it's actually accurate. - I'm sure there's other things I'll think of later but like, this was a really good movie, it was very well-written AND very visually awesome, go see it!