I just had a charlos thought (prompt maybe??) Charles writing things about Carlos in his note book, and then losing said notebook which results in a mini breakdown because he HAS to find it before anyone reads it and he’s freaking out but he can’t tell anyone why he’s freaking out either, everyone’s searching for the note book which causes him more stress, Carlos ends up finding it but doesn’t read it but Charles thinks he has
oh god this has been in my inbox for A YEAR and i randomly found it now... idek if you still follow me anon or if you even care about charlos (you should they are fruity and in love!), but i come with 2k as compensation <3 it was funnn to write this! enjoyyyy luvs! <3
Charles is freaking out. Rightfully, if he were to say so himself, as he just lost a very important thing in his life.
The whole garage of his is up and on their feet, trying their best to find an A4 blue notebook that is filled with details about Charles’ life – mostly racing, because Charles’ life is racing, racing and racing again, so it made sense to do that.
And well, that’s what he told everyone. Acted like the said notebook only holds the racing knowledge like data, strategies, technical stuff, Charles’ feelings about the car, possible improvements and such things. It is half true, however, not the full truth. Not in the slightest.
No one knows why he is freaking out so much. Only Andrea. And Joris. And Antoine. Because Charles can’t keep his fucking mouth shut about anything, ever.
The tell-tale rapid breathing of his was a hint Charles should calm down and not overthink this, but the fact he couldn’t reveal why the search was so urgent, made him lose a bit of sanity each time someone approached him a question about why it was so important.
Racing is important, was be his answer, but no one actually believed him, because everyone knows Charles holds all the information in his mind. The notebook is just a help. A boost if you may. He lives and breathes racing and he would think back to the imperfections (or the perfections, but there’s not many currently) on the whim.
Charles was surprised and wondered why no one seemed to be disturbed by the fact he insisted and nearly shouted at everyone that if they were to find the notebook, they could never ever open it, no matter what. He could blame it on wanting a privacy, but why would you need that big of a privacy from your team, if the things in the notebook were about the data the said team has?
“Nothing?” Charles asked in dejected voice after around 2 and half hours of searching. One look at his mechanics’ faces and he did not really need a vocal answer. He sighed and thanked everyone for their effort, sending them off in the process, retracting to his room with his head hung low.
It’s not like Charles was drawing his and Carlos’ initials in hearts into the notebook, no, but there were some things that would easily reveal his true feelings towards his teammate and he couldn’t allow it.
He wouldn’t be able to swallow down the rejection – Carlos’ big brown eyes so apologetic, feeling sorry for him and just because Carlos is such a good guy, he would try to force himself to like Charles just to make him happy.
Only if that was actually possible, Charles thinks and scoffs, the sound echoing around the hall.
Charles loves Carlos. It took him a long time to come into terms with it and it was honestly a big messy battle within him – one of his heart and brain and probably dick too – which in the end his heart won, no matter how much his brain tried (did it?) to resist the feelings.
Charles returned back to his driver’s room, his mood still sulky. He was slowly losing hope, but at the same time gaining it, because if his notebook got lost somewhere no one could find, then it meant Carlos couldn't either. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Charles’ brain was determined to convince him that was the case (or maybe it was Charles himself trying so hard to not get his feeling revealed to avoid the hurting).
---
Back in his hotel room, Charles still feels a bit down and paranoid, but it quickly disappears once he settles deep into his bath. Hot water sooths his muscles and he sighs – for the hundredth time today.
The rest of his evening routine passes by quickly and just as he’s about to climb into his bed, his face moisturized and hair washed, someone knocks on his door.
It’s Carlos. Looking better than ever.
Charles’ breath hitches when he opens the door, but he plays it off with a cough. He curses himself for not checking who it was before. His teammate looks sheepish, shy even, with how he’s looking at Charles with his big brown eyes. However, once Charles sees what Carlos is holding in his hand, he is done studying Carlos’ handsome face. His breath quickens and suddenly he feels like suffocating.
“What is that,” he says, voice flat. His eyes are zeroed on the A4 blue notebook filled with his handwriting talking about Carlos, his hands, hair, nose, eyes, and… Fuck.
How fucking stupid was he to write it into his work notebook? Charles needs to not be close to that thing during boring meetings ever again.
“Wow, I at least expected a simple ‘hello’,” Carlos chuckles and Charles can’t even appreciate the sound now. He only frowns and misses the way Carlos’ face drops.
“Carlos,” he warns firmly and then, without thinking, snatches the notebook from his hand, not caring it’s rude, nor that he still did not invite Carlos into his room. He immediately checks it, listing through the pages to make sure everything is intact.
Once he is sure, he takes a deep breath and turns back towards Carlos that is now standing in the middle of his room, the door behind him closed shut.
Carlos is looking at him – studying him, his expression scrutinizing – as if Charles turned into alien or something. His brows are slightly furrowed and his full pink lips are downturned. Oh no.
“Care to explain what the fuck was that?” Carlos asks, crossing his arms on his chest. And Charles is not the God’s strongest soldier. His eyes fly over Carlos’ whole body, eyes stopping on his bulging biceps, before he snaps out of it.
Out of nowhere, Charles’ blood starts to boil. Why is this man acting like Charles is stupid?
“Oh don’t act innocent, I know you did it,” Charles scoffs and clutches the notebook close to his chest. He’s never ever leaving it out there in the open.
Carlos looks confused and Charles is momentary startled. He shakes his head. No, he definitely did, he wouldn’t look so guilty other way.
“I am truly confused, Charles. Can you please talk to me and explain what’s going on?” oh and if Charles does not hate when Carlos is calm and rational, all while Charles is losing his mind.
He rolls his eyes – over exaggerating it.
“I know you read it. The notebook,” he says, his tone harsh, "everyone would, because that’s who we are. It is in our nature to be curious and do something we would perhaps regret later, but also never admit to. You read my notebook. Or maybe even took a peak.”
Charles chances a glance at Carlos and he doesn’t look confused anymore, no. More like a little hurt, but also amused, which Charles thinks is the worst combination ever. Partly because how the fuck is it possible to have 2 contradicting emotions battling on your face, but mostly because what is Carlos hurt for?
“The curiosity got the best of you, yeah yeah, do not even apologise, I know it all. We’ve all been there,” Charles waves his hand, but he can feel his throat tightening and he mentally curses himself.
“I didn’t-“ Carlos starts, but then shuts his mouth and waits. Charles finds it weird. Guess he gave up on the excuses.
Charles sighs, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, but to no avail, “just leave it. I know you don’t love me back, so there is no need to feel bad for me. God knows I am fed up with that sentiment,” he says and throws the notebook on his bed, turning away from Carlos, “can you just forget it and go now?”
It’s quiet, eerily. Charles is not sure if it has been minutes or hours, nor if Carlos is still there.
“Charles,” Carlos’ voice suddenly sounds way closer than before, “Charles,” he repeats, firmer now and he has no choice, but to turn to face his teammate.
Looking up into those eyes should come with a warning.
“I did not read your notebook. I really didn’t. I found it under the counter where you keep your helmets, when I was tying my shoes. I did not give it to you, because you were not in the garage, so I took it into my room. I wanted to give it to you in person, in case someone would be a jerk enough to read someone’s personal stuff,” Carlos says, emphasising the last part of the sentence.
Great, it’s safe to say Charles feels like shit now.
“Oh,” he says, averting his eyes, “so you really didn’t read it,” it’s phrased like a declarative sentence, not a question.
Carlos shakes his head still, which Charles can only see from his peripheral vision. He feels like dying because… because he just confessed without a need to do so. He's so stupid.
Big warm hands land on Charles’ cheeks and he has no choice, but to look back on Carlos’ handsome face, “can you tell me more about the love you mentioned?”
“No,” Charles whines automatically and Carlos has a nerve to chuckle. Charles’ head thunks against Carlos’ shoulder and he immediately feels Carlos’ hand in his hair.
“It’s okay,” Carlos whispers and Charles feels like crying, because here it is. The pity, the rejection he was so afraid of- “I love you too.”
Charles giggles and nuzzles his nose into Carlos’ neck. He stays there, breathing in Carlos’ scent when he suddenly realizes what the fuck he just said.
“What?” he abruptly moves away, almost shouting.
Carlos looks smug, with the slight smirk playing on his lips, but his eyes look soft. So soft and earnest Charles feels like his knees will give out from under him. It is all it takes to believe him, because he knows Carlos. He knows Carlos shows emotions through his eyes more than anyone else, because he’s seen it so many times it is integrated in his brain.
“You heard me,” he says and his smiles transforms from smug to soft and Charles launches.
Their lips crash and Charles puts every drop of his willpower into keeping himself on the ground and not climbing Carlos like a tree.
Kissing Carlos does not feel like anything he’s dreamed of, because nothing of sorts can compare to the real thing. Carlos starts slow, with careful closed mouth kisses that after a while start to frustrate Charles. He whines, to voice out his displeasure.
Carlos gets the memo and finally starts kissing him and Charles finds himself on cloud nine. He’s turned breathless as Carlos goes from slow, to vigorous open mouthed kisses, his tongue prodding at Charles’ lips to let him in. Charles moans, loudly, into Carlos’ mouth, sending a message of how much he’s loving it.
The tips of Carlos’ fingers run down Charles’ spine and a whimper falls from Charles’ mouth once Carlos grabs his ass, squeezing it. The action brings Charles closer. So close he can feel the outline of Carlos’ dick against his hip.
“Carlos,” he whimpers, his own hard dick rubbing against Carlos, “I need you.”
“Let’s take this to the bed, cariño,” Carlos breathes out, guiding Charles there before he was even done speaking.
Later, when they are lying in his bed, Charles’ head pillowed on Carlos’ shoulder, does Charles finally feel fully relaxed. Looking up at Carlos’ freckled face, his strong nose and big plump lips brings a strange sense of happiness and comfort to Charles.
(What doesn’t bring comfort, is the drying cum on his ass and thighs, but he is content enough to ignore it and stay in Carlos’ arms. For now).
“Why did you look so guilty on my doorstep?” Charles asks, not able to help himself. He needs to know, because the only explanation his brain could come up with back then was ‘Carlos is guilty’, which apparently was not true.
Carlos sighs, his fingertips slowing down their tracing on Charles’ back, “I know you were looking for your journal. Ricky messaged me.”
Charles is confused, “and?”
Charles giggles, the sound coming out of his mouth freely. Carlos kisses his forehead and Charles brings his hand up to Carlos’ jaw to caress it. He kisses his nose in return, then cheek and then finally his mouth.
“I could have given it to you back then or send it through someone. I was not back here yet,” he pauses and Charles says nothing. Leaving him space to continue whenever he wants, “but I was selfish. I wanted to give it back to you in private. I don’t really know why, “he resumes his stroking, his voice getting quieter, “perhaps I wanted an excuse to be with you alone.”
“I’m glad you did.”
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Do you get annoyed when people say the Sterek fandom is dead? Well, prove them wrong by reblogging this fresh new rec list of fics published in the past three years!
Pulling Strings by Gia279
54k words, M
Stiles and Derek pull off the ultimate game of survival charades: fooling the alpha pack into thinking their leader, alpha of alphas, demon wolf Deucalion himself, is still alive, in order to find the location of the Darach and save Beacon Hills and their pack, while Stiles learns to control this brand new, unusual power.
The Curse of the Love Sweater by HisBeloved
56k words, E
The "sweater curse" or "curse of the love sweater" is a term used by knitters to describe the belief that if a knitter gives a hand-knit sweater to a significant other, it will lead to the recipient breaking up with the knitter.
When Stiles and Derek were children, a misunderstanding created a rift between Claudia Stilinski, owner of The Hale Yarn Company, and Talia Hale, the best knitter and spinner in the county, leading to the opening of Lucky Ewe, Claudia Stilinski's yarn store.
Stiles and Derek have been lifelong competitors at the Beacon County Fair and after their mothers died, became owners of competing yarn shops. Derek is a budding knitwear designer on the eve of the release of his first book of patterns. Stiles wants him on his popular knitting YouTube show despite the decade-long feud between the Stilinski's and Hales. Hijinks, fluff, and ridiculousness ensue, and the boys get their happy ending.
Don't they know it's the end of the world? by flemoncake, mute90
20k words, M
Stiles thought being in love in a dangerous, post-apocalyptic world was a bad idea. He voted for pleasant, casual sex all the way. But being afraid of love doesn't stop it from coming after you. Being afraid doesn’t stop anything from coming after you.
love in suspension by creationmyth
6k words, T
They walk side by side back to the camaro, Derek’s all tensed up while Stiles hums some unnamable tune under his breath. When they finally break the treeline, Stiles pulls Derek by the arm so they’re face to face.
“Thank you,” Stiles tells him quietly, making sure Derek knows he’s sincere.
“It’s what we do.”
It is. It really is.
(or: Stiles and Derek learn, over time, how loyalty becomes love.)
ouroboros (get it right) by yesimirreputable
5k words, M
You try again, and the story's always the same: you never make it past eighteen.
a light and darkness in the heart of the forest by thedaughterofkings
10k words, T
There's a beast in the forest, they say.
If you call to it, it will answer.
To save his mom, Stiles will face up to it and hope the price won't be higher than the reward.
nothing but hope and virtue by dappledawndrawn, LeafZelindor
60k words, T
Senator Derek Hale, a California Democrat, had considered a future where he needed to hire a new campaign manager. He'd always expected to hire someone from inside the campaign. They'd have been familiar, respectful, come into his office carefully, with nervous excitement, and called him "sir" too much when asking for their first assignment. They'd have been familiar with the ins and outs of working with a werewolf pack, and everything would have been fine. Not great, maybe, but fine.
But instead, Deaton retires with no warning, and almost sight-unseen, he hires Stiles Stilinksi, who is sprawled across his office couch, entering random contacts from Derek's Rolodex into his phone. Derek's a little in love with him. It's going to be a long campaign.
Fairy Wings and Beastly Tails by Bliz, PalenDrome (nerdherderette)
8k words, T
The prince knows it’s risky. He thinks about how he could manage without his wings; what his life would be like without flying or the ability to do spells. He thinks about his father and Scott, and all the others he’d leave behind if he fails. But then he thinks about the creature and the sadness in those green eyes, and how the image haunts his dreams.
“I’ll do it,” he says as the Oak Witch’s grin grows wide.
Bite the Moonlight & Bleed Gold by raisesomehale
86k words, E
Seven years after being tricked and imprisoned by the Argents, Derek Hale finds himself off the blistering coasts of Antarctica aboard the Argentum Domina, an illegal prison ship out of which the Argents operate their behemoth, underground poaching empire. Bitter and packless, Derek spends his days working off his servitude by poaching creatures for Gerard to sell on the Black Magic Market, no future or end in sight. Until, Allison Argent brings him a capture case with a reward price so ludicrous that he has no choice but to accept.
The only problem is, the target creature shouldn't even exist.
Derek is flung fast into the deep webbings of a bigger mystery than he could have ever imagined. And discovers that, like this enchanting creature, not everything is as it seems.
My Soul to Keep by jacyevans, Jmeelee
18k words, T
Stiles came with a whiteboard, and blue dry erase marker, flapping it over his head like a white flag on a battlefield.
"Come on," he coaxed. "You must want to say something. You've never gone this long without telling me to shut up." He waggled the marker in Derek's face. Stinging alcohol and pungent polymer singed Derek's nose hairs.
His fingers itched to pick up the board, and not because he wanted to tell Stiles to be quiet. He enjoyed the babble that filled the apartment every few days, the hearty food, Stiles' particular, reassuring smell: maple sugar buzz, spicy-sweet deodorant, milk-sour frustration, floral shampoo, and spring grass at night. It soaked into Derek's couch, his bed, his skull.
If any of it were real, Derek would take the board and write: thank you.
A Functioning Adult’s Field Guide to Enemies With Benefits by BisexualGoblin (LadyBoBo)
31k words, E
The six years Stiles was away for college, he certainly missed a lot—namely the whole best friend turned into a werewolf thing. But he didn’t think he missed enough to get replaced by a douche bag like Derek Hale. Now with Scott’s wedding looming, it’s the perfect chance for Stiles to show Derek who the real brains of the operation is. If only he could stop jumping into bed with him…
Let's build a beehive by GreyHaven
25k words, G
Ten years after he last saw Derek, Stiles' life is in ruins and he has nowhere else to turn. He has Derek's address but will he be welcomed?
A post canon AU about healing, growth, acceptance, and love.
Handstands For You by Fenris13
15k words, E
"No, really, you don't have to—!" Stiles hisses, flinching as Derek rubs soap with needless intensity into the cut.
"Shut up and keep still," Derek growls back.
Stiles whines in response, squirming in Derek’s grip but otherwise following the order. Stupid werewolves and their stupid regeneratey-healy powers. It’s not Stiles’ fault that he’s wimpy and human, so when he gets thrown down a flight of stairs and through a rotten wooden wall by lake monsters, he still remembers it the next morning.
Shaking the wings of their terrible youths by Daisyapples
29k words, N/r
Stiles didn't expect much when he stopped a stranger being attacked in an alleyway.
He didn't expect the wolf following him around New York, didn't expect the help when he was sick, didn't expect the psycho blond attacking him, or the place to stay. He didn't expect the new family.
Oh, and he definitely didn't expect werewolves.
Dear Fellow Traveler by lanalua (this is me!)
32k words, M
Years after shit went down in Beacon Hills a traumatized Stiles is dating Lydia and living in New York, trying to avoid and get over anything related to the supernatural. When he finally decides to go back to his hometown and face his fears, he will be lead down a path of self-discovery that will change the course he had set for his life.
Stiles shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Derek, it was just that he couldn’t. If he’d had magic the whole time, did it mean he could have been less useless back in highschool? Did it mean he could have helped, maybe kept Erica and Boyd alive? Kept Derek and Scott from leaving? It was too much. Guilt tore through his stomach like an arrow. He felt himself start to hyperventilate again.
As always, check the tags in individual fics to find out if they're right for you, and don't forget to leave the authors some love!
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And yes. These are all characters from my demon summoning assassin novel, 7 Deadly Habits of the Modern Demon Summoner.
Which is COMPLETELY FREE to download on the free Kindle app (available for iOS, Android, tablet, etc. on the app store) from February 22nd to February 26th!
eBook only, but if you download it for free now, and like it, then you can always buy the physical copy to have on your shelf :D
Link here.
Full description below. I'd appreciate a reblog/signal boost, because I don't want anyone to miss grabbing the book while it's most accessible. But also vote on which one you think is the worst, because I promise you, they are much, much, much worse in the actual novel.
Anyway. Thanks for listening. Sorry to bother. But not that sorry.
Transcription in case the photo does not load:
Twenty-three-year-old CEO Don Francisco wants one of the richest women in the world dead. Which one? Daphne Oakland: actress, model, heir to the Oakland financial empire, and unbeknownst to the general public, talented demon summoner. But since Francisco isn’t nearly as rich as the established Oakland family, he hires the only assassin he can afford: Sebastián Monterey, a down-on-his-luck, struggling demon summoner, the cheapest and lowest ranking one there is.
But Monterey is nothing like Cisco expected. He’s high-spirited, reckless, relentlessly cheerful …and worse, he’s a bit of a slut. The CEO is horrified to find out that Monterey has not just one, but seven angry exes in the killing business, who will stop at nothing to get in the way of an already impossible hit. Not only do they have personal reasons for wanting to see their former lover dead, they also have professional reasons: they are all currently employed by the Oakland family members!
To make matters worse, Monterey finds out the Oaklands are each protecting a demon ritual artifact for Daphne. When brought together, all 7 can be used to summon a demon more powerful than any currently contracted on earth. If he is to carry out this hit at all, he’ll have to interfere with the summon by stealing every artifact, and maybe even summon the demon before Daphne can.
But that's only if none of his exes kill him first!
And here's some lovely art of the MC, Rey, which I commissioned from the talented @marcissistv (Twitter).
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