The Seed of an Idea Smut Meme

When playing smut, as with most rp, sometimes you have a problem --- well, a problem that becomes two-fold. Maybe you have an idea, some inspiration that strikes you, but it's not fully formed. There's not enough here to make a proper post; or, perhaps, you don't have the place to do so or the person who may be interested in it. The other problem is that there is no meme to cater to this specific idea, because most memes have their own, built-in prompts that don't exactly fit.

Well, this meme kills two birds with one sexy stone. Here, you, the top commenter, provide only what you're interested in. This "idea" can be anything: a vague concept ("x, my boy character, crossdressing and having sex with a girl"), a picture, a lyric, a list of options, or a full-fledged starter. The only requirement is that your comment contain something. Everything else will follow, and others will show their creativity from what you've posted.

RULES

Comment with your character and your preferences.
Comments MUST contain a prompt of some kind. Blank comments will be deleted.
Comment to others, using what they've provided.
As far as pictures or gifs go, obviously this will be NSFW, but please, for pictures that show extreme sexual violence or questionable consent, link them rather than embed them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

He was going to die without it, and Derek will not feel guilty over that.

Much.

Sighing, Derek swung his legs over Stiles' thighs to straddle him proper, tapping at his cheek lightly. "Stiles. Stiles!"

"Eeeeeeenh." He moved his head, turning away from the tapping. Why was there tapping? Was it trying to eat his brain? He was under attack by zombies.

"Stiles!" Derek huffed, tapping his face a little harder. He didn't want to hit him, despite the fact Stiles would probably have no qualms about it if they were reversed. He was beaten up enough, he didn't need anymore bruises.

"Whaaaaaat?" The word was pulled reluctantly from him, his body wanting to go back to sleep so he could heal.

Settling back a little more on Stiles' thighs, Derek raised an eyebrow. "Get up. You're stitched up."

Well, that would explain the pain coming from his stomach. "Don't want to. Hurts. Five more minutes."

A sigh. Derek pushed his hand up under Stiles' shirt again, fingers curling gently around his waist, drawing his pain away again. "Is that better?"

"First a kiss and now you're copping a feel. Derek, is there something you want to tell me?" He tried to laugh, but it came out a pained wheeze, eyes closing tight before he felt some of the pain start to taper off.

"Maybe," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "Can I get you anything?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but really, what the hell do you say to something like that? Thanks? Okay? Why'd you pick when I'm dying? He just blinked at Derek, then tried to sit up.

Oh, that was dumb. "A new body. Get me a new body. Make it a good one."

"What if I like this one?" He said dryly, reaching out a hand for Stiles to take. "Be more careful."

"What if you--? Did you get hit on the head? No, wait. It's me. I'm dead, aren't I?" He accepted the hand and let himself be slowly pulled up.

Derek settled him, scooting off his thighs with a sardonic look and a raised eyebrow. "I just told you you're not dead," he replied, one hand still carefully perched on Stiles' waist, leeching the pain from him.

"But you could have been."

He looked down when he felt Derek's hand still on him even after he moved, watching the black veins creep up his arm. "Don't do that. You're going to hurt yourself."

And why did he care again?

"It doesn't hurt me," he said, following Stiles' gaze. "You nearly died," he repeats, giving him a significant look. "Stop changing the subject."

He's trying to tell you that, Stiles, if you'd listen.

"What subject?" He tried to bat at Derek's hand, but he was pretty weak at the moment and it was kind of a pathetic attempt.

Derek's hand didn't move. He sighed, and shifted his weight a little bit, leaning in to crowd into Stiles' personal space. The pad of his thumb starts drawing small circles on Stiles' skin. He's soft, and he smells like blood and fear, but under all that is the unmistakable scent of Stiles, the thing any of the werewolves he knows could use to pick him out of a crowd, and he focuses on that, breathing deep against the pulse point in his neck.

"You nearly died," he said softly, pressing his face against Stiles' neck. "I nearly lost you."

His heart actually stops beating for a moment, his mind focusing on the two pinpoints of Derek's hand touching him like that, all lazy and soft, and the nose suddenly buried in against his neck. The next time it started beating, it was almost painful and he let out the breath he'd been holding.

First he kissed him, then he was getting touchy with him. Now...

A hand came up, moving to rest in Derek's hair as he tried to look down at him. "Not nearly enough. I'm still alive, right?" Jesus. Did Derek actually care? That had his head swimming more than the blood loss.

Yes. Granted, it had been slow learning on Derek's part, come to a head when he'd seen Stiles get rent by the monster of the week, and he'd freely admit later that it hadn't been selfless motives for taking Stiles from the scene of the attack to stitch him up while waiting for someone more capable. He wanted to touch Stiles himself, make sure he was still alive, keep an ear on his heart, hold him while he recovered.

"Right," he agreed, not moving.

"Derek... Is there something you want to tell me?" Not that he wasn't slowly figuring it out by himself. The snuggling was sort of giving it away. But hey, making him say it could be good payback for him jabbing him in the stomach with a needle.

Repeatedly.

Derek grew quiet and still, eyes closing. "You still don't get it?"

"Um..." Maybe? He just didn't want to guess something that was wrong and get that look that Derek had mastered.

"I. Care." It's succinct and to the point, and Derek sat up, looking at Stiles. "About you."

"Okay. I'm getting that. I guess you just, um, haven't before? So, yeah. Feeling a little confused here."

"Because all those times I saved you life were indication that I hate you so much." Dryly.

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