вот и НЦ пошла))
((Did someone request for Stiles’ POV? Because I am only here to serve =w=))
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It wasn’t that Stiles was a wisp of a thing. He had height, he had muscle, it was just- it was just he would rather be reading scrolls by the firelight than in the courtyard swinging a sword, alright? And he didn’t tan like Derek, he burned, and the only thing less attractive than parchment white skin was crispy, flaky red. So if he spent more times indoors and in the shade, as any other lady of the court, well, he couldn’t help that either.
But Derek looked down upon Stiles like he was a beautiful thing, a precious gem clasped between his hands. Calloused hands, thick and strong, pressing themselves ever deeper within Stiles’. Touching places that made his pulse race and his breath come in gasps. He didn’t try to hold back his moans, because why deny Derek what was obviously a pleasure? The gladiator may not enjoy music, but the sounds of Stiles’ ecstasy seemed the sweetest ambrosia.
And when his faithful soldier entered him, when Stiles felt that hard heat between his legs, he knew that he would become addicted to this feeling. He was a lord, was he not? He could consume what he wished, and he wished to consume Derek body and soul. Derek, with broad shoulders and hulking mass, warm skin which slid so deliciously against Stiles’ own, calloused fingers with rubbed against the boy’s back. Hands once covered in blood, now covered in oil and sweat.
It was an odd feeling, not without its discomforts, having a man within him, but Stiles’ could already feel the sensation of pleasure growing deep, like an ember about to spark into flame. He had never been so intimate with another, so closely connected, every point of contact building heat between them. His eyes were closed in the sensation as he threw his head back, allowing the feeling to build.
Derek, the good lover he was, was quick with his calming whispers. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect,” the older man sighed. “You feel so good.”
Stiles could barely contain his smirk between ragged moans. Oh, what a fine purchase he had made. A lover who was completely devoted to Stiles’ whims. A soldier who would fight for Stiles’ honor, an extension of the lord himself. A son of Romulus to give him power and pleasure in turn.
He cried Derek’s name as he felt his climax reach him, unable and not wanting to hold back. This was what the gladiator was for, was it not? To give Stiles the pleasure of viewing a spectacle on the battle field, and to give him the sensation of bliss in the bed chambers. But he had already decided that his faithful soldier was to fight no more on the emperor’s whim. It would be by Stiles’ command, and by Stiles’ command alone that Derek would shed more blood. More sweat.
He cried Derek’s name like the champion he was, Stiles’ champion forever more. He felt Derek’s gentle hand pet the back of his hair, and he felt victory growing within him. He would endear himself to this man, take pleasurable nights from his gladiator. And use him to gain the glory of an empire.
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((Stiles continues to be a little shit, I’m actually so freaking glad I wrote this!))
©
до этого былоUPD2
((Uh, let me warn for NSFW right now… ;D))
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Stiles fidgeted, his hips wiggling like an anxious puppy. “You’re not…” The lordling bit his shiny lips, which had tasted of grapes, and stared up with wide eyes. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”
Derek sighed. How was this his life? Perhaps if he had only known such a tempting boy existed, he would have been the one to win the honor of deflowering him. He certainly wouldn’t have been dying in the ‘line of duty.’ But three years ago he had been busy with training and honor, and had no time for such playful things.
And now, with only another day of killing at hand, all he had was time.
So he kissed the Stiles’ again, this time gentler, allowing his tongue to lap languidly inside that very pink mouth. He allowed the lordling to return the kiss with fervor, moaning softly and trembling slightly. Derek could smell the slightly acrid scent of fear, and it set his instincts on edge. For all the boy’s bravo, it was his first time.
For all that he was a gladiator, for all that he had no right, no honor to deflower such a tempting boy… To think of another holding Stiles’ sent a rage beneath his skin, and he knew that he would have Stiles’ as his tonight.
Derek slowly started to loosen Stiles’ tunic, undoing the wrappings in the middle and sliding it off the boy’s shoulders. He closed his eyes and allowed their foreheads to touch, just lightly. “Don’t be scared,” he said softly.
He could heard rather than saw Stiles’ pout as he answered, “I am not.” The lordling wasn’t quite able to keep the tremble out of his voice.
Derek couldn’t keep a small smile from appearing. “I know you are. It’s fine.”
Stiles was quiet for a moment, and then whispered, “How do you…?”
The tremble of his heart. The tremor in his voice. The way his skin vibrated just slightly, quivering underneath Derek’s searching hands. “That matters not.”
Their next kiss held all the heat of the sun, and all the ferocity of the wolf. It was two desires colliding, a hungery want and a feverish need. Stiles clung on desperately, too prideful to admit his fear, yet too young to go without it. Derek knew fear all too well, and desperation too. He welcomed it like an old friend, for he was about to receive his fill of what he so desperately wanted. Needed.
The bed was soft, with silken sheets and bright embroidery. The firelight glowed brightly against Stiles’ pale skin as Derek laid him gently down, skin flushed pink as Derek prepared him with warmed oil, squirming with barely constrained discomfort.
"Can you take me?" Derek whispered into Stiles’ ear, pushing his fingers deeper.
"Ah… ah- yes," Stiles muttered back, his eyes closing in twisted ecstasy.
Derek tutted, lifting the lordling’s legs upwards. He slipped into Stiles’ tight heat slowly, his eyes closing at the feel of it. How the Gods’ blessings simply paled compared to this sweet feeling. The greatest of pleasures was beneath Derek now, and he knew that fate had given him a gift.
Stiles moaned without reserve as Derek began to move within him, his pink mouth opened in pleasure as Derek took his sweet time. Oh, but Derek was truly spoiling his young lord. Tonight was not the time to show how much he desperately wished to ravish, to rut within his lover with the ferocity that could only be given to a kin of wolves. No, tonight should hold the air of sweet caresses and soft kisses, of light touches and whispered reassurances.
He allowed Stiles’ to cling to him desperately, to call out his name as if Derek was a god. Stiles rubbed himself along Derek’s stomach, the friction causing his breath to hitch, and Derek continued to gently thrust his hips forward, a smooth motion he knew would send sparks within his lordling.
Stiles’, sweaty and needy and flushed red against creamy skin, soon reached his climax, to young and inexperienced to be able to keep himself from letting go too soon, crying out Derek’s name like a holy chant, desperate for the release that Derek was oh so willing to give him. The gladiator cradled the back of his lord’s head, allowing his fingers to sift through the short, silky locks, before succumbing to the desire himself, the greatest of pleasures taking hold of him as he marked his lover with a single bite.
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((Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh- idon’tevenknowanymore, i hope you like uwu))
©
UPD
о!!! она дальше радует!!!
дальше)
Second set for the Roman!AU (FIRST set is here)
I can’t believe how much this have blown up. XD I love you guys. I’m blown away…
So we have a Derek Arriving to the Stilinski household. I assume Papa Stilinski (ahem John) is out. He is probably the one responsible for Rome to be in order. (I have not seen the series Spartacus guys, so I have no idea what I’m doing!)
( I have more images already so please don’t jump to the makeout scene just yet! The images explain why Stiles is still not deflowered. It’s funny.)
Things such as fine dinners were not a new experience to Derek, for he was a former lord. He knew the taste of fine wine and the sound of sweet music, though the private chamber that Lord Stilinski- “Stiles, just call me Stiles,” the boy had said, over bright-had brought Derek to was completely silent, per the gladiator’s request. The feast laid out before them, suckling pig and fat grapes draped upon bowls, was not something new to the man. The hunger in his stomach, however, was, and he immediately set forth to eat his fill, not knowing when his next meal was to come.
Lord Stilinski watched him with a barely constrained wonder, his amber eyes flickering in the candlelight, his chin resting upon his hands. Almost as if he was a boy with a new pet, and was feeding it for the first time. Derek didn’t take kindly to the comparison.
"Will you not sup upon your own feast, my lord?" Derek asked, attempting to mask his dislike of being so heavily watched. Even as a lord himself he had been severely lacking in social graces, but he knew the folly of insulting his host.
Lord Stilinski shrugged. “I have just come from my own meal.” He did, however, take a grape and begin peeling the skin. “But I wish you to have your fill, Derek.”
Derek clenched his fist, a protest of such familial terms catching on his lips. But he kept himself silent. What else would the lordling call him? Hale? He had long since been stripped of his family’s good name. Derek was the only title offered to him now. He would just have to accept that.
Stiles took the grape and began to chew it thoughtfully, the juices glistening on his lips. “You still have my token, I see.”
Derek looked down to where he had place the necklace next to his plate. He wasn’t sure why he had brought it, other than the fact that it would most likely be stolen if he had kept them at the gladiator’s quarters. Not even Isaac could be trusted to keep such a treasure. But wearing it had seemed almost like a defeat, or a brand that he was now property of the young lord. So he had simply kept it clenched in his fist.
Stiles peered down to the necklace on the table, and moved his hand forward. Derek nearly flinched back before the lordling placed his pale, uncalloused fingers on the necklace, just centimeters away from Derek’s hand, and looked up from long, dark eyelashes. “I would like for you to wear it, my gladiator.”
Derek bit off a retort about cheeky boys with too much pride. No, it would not do to anger his host. Especially one who held the promise of buying Derek’s way out of the gladiator ring, and perhaps onwards to something else. Greatness perhaps. Revenge, more likely.
So instead he said, his voice darkly amused, “Such pretty trinkets seem far better suited for you, my lord.”
"Hmm." Stiles eyes flashed in the candlelight, his easy smile turning to a frown. "You think me weak, then?"
Derek shook his head. “No, I simply think you far more likely to receive the Gods’ favor than I.”
Stiles leaned forward, his tunic riding down to expose more of his creamy white chest. But still, his face held a look of fierce determination. “I need no favors from the Gods to get what I want, Derek. Never forget that.”
And, for the first time that night, Derek grinned. “I never assumed otherwise, my lord.”
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((Aaaaahhh, I just wrote what I thought would best go with the story, hopefully it matches what you’ve drawn!))
©
пускай они продолжат! пусть не останавливаются!!!
Nothing is probably accurate in this.
I imagine:
- The Argents to be very high on the food chain and nobody ever questions them.
- Stiles and Lydia were engaged when they were very small but then Jackson came into the picture but they are still superb friends and Stiles is still planning a way to get Lydia to marry him instead of Jackson.
- Derek was ordered to keep his life and entertain the masses as a gladiator. ( Coach is the gladiator trainer lol joking)
- Laura and Cora are at Peter’s and know nothing yet. (because I like it when characters are alive)
I blame everything on this lovely photoset and this magical amv where Lydia’s necklace is from.
DO I NEED TO WRITE TO GET YOU TO DRAW GLADIATOR DEREK? CAUSE HERE I GO.
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"Who do you keep looking up to?" asked Isaac, his curls already peeking beneath his helmet. Without seeing the youth in battle it would be hard to believe he was a vicious fighter, already the victor of several battles. It didn’t help him combat the accusation that he had murdered his father, though Isaac still firmly held that he was innocent of such a claim.
"Nothing," Derek answered quietly, strapping his gauntlet tighter. As a formal noble he was better suited for dressing himself in armor than most the men around him, but that didn’t mean the scraps they received fit him any better.
Isaac peered upwards to the balcony full of nobles. “Lady Martin, I wonder?” He chuckled dryly. “I served her at the Whittemore house. Not one to be bedding gladiators at a whim, not if her gaze towards Young Lord Jackson had anything to say.” He glanced back to Derek, as if to confirm his suspicions.
"I know a venomous woman when I see one," was all Derek muttered back.
"Ah, so perhaps her companion?" Isaac looked once more. "Young Lord Stilinski, I believe. Can’t quite remember his first name… Though I remember Lady Martin calling him Stiles."
Obviously a shortening of his family name, Derek thought to himself, gazing up once more to the youth. The boy could be no more than sixteen summers, with an upturned nose and moles that dotted his face. The sun burned brilliantly behind him, giving highlights to his closely cut hair and turning his brown eyes amber.
It set memories blazing in Derek’s mind, of a fortune teller with sad eyes who told him of destiny and greatness. That he would one day meet a child of Apollo, and give them the glory of an empire. He had, only a few months ago, believed that to be Kate. Kate with her golden locks and prideful eyes, who had all the greatness of a God and all the terrible wrath of one.
He looked away from the sunlit boy and back to the arena. Today he wouldn’t simply flash his wolf eyes and scare away a few animals. Today he would kill a man, staining his hands ever deeper with the crimson of death, his blue eyes shining with the innocents killed.
Today he was a gladiator, and today he would not die.
Derek can feel someone’s watching him…..
Oh look it’s Stiles!
So after the game…
(that thing wishes to be a lute)
((Oh ho ho, my master plan worked but not really cause you were drawing it anyway =w=))
((Another snippet for such lovely art? Yes, I think so…))
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"My, my, my," said Lydia as she began to pluck the purple flowers from her hair delicately, one by one. "That certainly is a way to capture Gladiator Hale’s attention. Though I’m not sure what your father will say to throwing away your birthday present to a mere fighter…"
Stiles waved a flippant hand. “That trinket? My father said that it would give me Apollo’s grace. I’m sure Hale needs the Gods’ favor far more than I.”
"Oh? And shall the gladiator receive a young lord’s favor as well?" Lydia scrunched her nose with a wicked smile. "A token of affection seems awfully bold of even you, Stiles. You should have seen the look on Emperor Argent’s face. The old man looked like he was about to pop a vein…" She offered Stiles her hand.
"He would do his oh-so-loyal subjects quite the favor if he did." Stiles took the offered hand, giving her a slight bow. "And why should he care who I take into my bed chambers? I may pay for the pleasure of Hale’s company, same as any other noble."
"Why Stiles, such brash words said in front of such a refined lady as myself," Lydia answered with a smirk as she stood. "With such talk as that you’ll only double your father’s efforts for us to be betrothed, and for me to make a proper lord of you."
Stiles kissed her hand and grinned up to her. “I believe we both know that would never happen, should we be interested in wedding at all. Now is not Lord Jackson expecting to see you within this hour? Speaking of bed chambers, and the dealings within them.”
Lydia tutted as she yanked her hand free, a pretend pout gracing her lips. “Why Stiles, you know I am simply spending the night within Lady Allison’s household.”
"Yes, and Lady Allison is simply spending the night within your household. Accompanied by the faithful soldier Scott, there for her every whim." He gave a cheeky wink. "Hopefully I’ll be having such a faithful soldier of my own soon."
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((Oh my god I’m sorry if you had different plans for Scott x Allison but I just went with the whole soldier falls in love with his kick ass lady and I had to run with it >w<
)((Another short snippet for Derek too!))
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"The young lord seems to favor you," noted Isaac dryly, washing hot blood off his chest. Derek had been glad that they had never been ordered to fight against each other. The young man’s lithe body and quick moves gave him an advantage to those of greater bulk.
Derek simply allowed the chain of the necklace to slip through his fingers as he passed it from one hand to the other. It was gold and soft, and the pendent was no larger than a coin, with the carving of lute within it. Apollo’s symbol.
Were the gods trying to tell him something?
"Will you be accepting his offer, should he try to buy you for a night?" asked Isaac, leaning cockily against the wall. "If he likes you enough he may buy you. Far better to be a young noble’s plaything than risk your life for a crowd’s amusement, if you ask me."
"And haven’t you had such offers?" asked Derek.
Isaac simply shrugged. “Old politicians all. No, it would take the princess herself to woo me into a bed.” His eyes narrowed “But you kept looking at the lordling, didn’t you? Perhaps his bedchamber is exactly where you wish to be.”
Derek didn’t answer. He couldn’t deny the truth that Lord Stiles’ bed seemed very welcoming, whether the gods led him to it or not.
©
@темы: Teen Wolf
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19.08.2013 в 21:13-
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19.08.2013 в 21:16насколько смогла=)
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20.08.2013 в 13:17-
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20.08.2013 в 16:05и даже лучше=)))
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20.08.2013 в 22:23-
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20.08.2013 в 23:05кто бы ещё написал! но это так прекрасно!