#khalesprix

[khalesprix]

Il Preludio Di Un Bacio - Chapter 1 - Khalesprix - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

[foreverthemomfriend]

@novemberhush Thanks for the tag hun! 💙💙

Last song: Love Don’t Live Here Anymore - Lady Antebellum (if we don’t count the flipping through songs on silent to do the music game I was tagged in)

Last film: Red, White and Royal Blue

Currently reading (or last read): I just finished Kingdom of Ash (the last Throne of Glass book) and the book hangover is real so I’m diving into fics for a bit I think. Rereading some old favourites

Currently watching: a whole swath of things with my roommates, but by myself; I’m watching Big Mouth, a few cooking shows and I’m rewatching The Office

Current obsession: Sterek as parents… don’t care if it’s as pack parents or their own kids, if they are parents I want to read it right now. (I’m choosing to blame the persistent baby fever)

9 people I want to get to know or catch up with: @yourfriendfrogs @jenn-i-guess @evanesdust @when-they-write-stuff @whattabuck @luulapants @dirtandleavesandrain @hiddenbookshop @khalesprix and anyone else who wants to give it a go! (no worries if you don’t want to! It’s just for fun!)

Tag nine people you want to catch up with/get to know better

Thanks for tagging me @under-the-silk-tree !😘

Last song - Heart of Somebody by Caroline Spence

Last film - The Power of the Dog

Currently reading (or last read) - I’m about halfway through The Change by Kirsten Miller and I’m enjoying it so far.

Currently watching - The Blacklist, Law and Order: SVU, Annika

Current obsession - Nothing, really. I’ve just been throwing myself into reading more books and working my way through my ‘to watch’ list.

I tag @smowkie @imwritesometimes @foreverthemomfriend @zerokrox-blog @fireladybuckley @slow-burn-sally @guiltypleasurefandomface @4ft10tvlandfangirl @halespecterwinchester and anyone else who wants to play. No pressure on anyone who doesn’t!❤️

[when-they-write-stuff]

Under the bright (but faded lights)

pairing: sterek

wc: 5500

notes: written for @khalesprix from the prompt list of "I don’t want to do this without you" and “Don’t say that. You’re going to be okay” and it kind of got away from me. In the very best way! 

-

September

-

 Stiles wasn’t supposed to be the one getting hurt. 

He was human. He was fragile. Derek knew the boy would deny that to his dying breath if he ever said it out loud, but it was true. Stiles was so human it hit Derek like a blow. And he wasn’t supposed to be the one getting hurt.

But in the end, he did. And in the end, it wasn’t the supernatural that came for him.

When the symptoms first started, Derek was terrified that once more, Stiles was possessed. From the lack of sleeping, to the weight loss, to the sick smell of his scent. And Derek wasn’t sure he could go through all of that again; the pain, the terror, and the death. But then when Stiles came to his loft one day, pale-face and shaking, Derek realized it was much worse.

“This was the only way I never wanted to be like my mother.”

And Derek’s heart had broken.

Stiles wasn’t supposed to be the one getting hurt. He was kind, and brave, and good. Stiles was everything that kept Derek anchored and the day he learned he might lose the boy, Derek thought maybe he’d lose himself too.

“It took my mom pretty quick. They’re not sure how long I’ll have either.”

Stiles deserved to live a long life. One where he could sleep a full night, be safe for longer than a few days, and grow old with someone he loved. Stiles deserved everything and Derek kept realizing over and over again that he wouldn’t get.

“My dad is, uh… coping.”

Derek blinked at the boy. Stiles’s amber eyes were teary and his face was pale, but there was still a smile on his lips. Somehow still a smile on his lips. His fingers were trembling. He looked down at them as he talked, as if he had forgotten Derek was there but the words continued to come anyway.

“He’s not going to be able to watch this though. I, uh, don’t think the next few years are going to be very great. For either of us.”

Derek just stared. Amber eyes finally flicked back up, meeting his own.

“But you’ll take care of him, right? When I’m gone?”

Derek didn’t say a word. Didn’t move a muscle. Stiles continued to look at him, tear streaks tracing lines down his face, and Derek just stared. Because this wasn’t right. This wasn’t happening. Maybe he’d fallen asleep and this was a nightmare.

Something was wrong.

“Oh,” Stiles said quietly. “I, uh, get it dude. I shouldn’t have come.”

When he stood up, giving Derek one last look, his expression was silent. Pleading. Derek continued to stare at him like he was seeing a ghost, thoughts moving slowly, and Stiles nodded before turning away. He crossed the loft without looking back and carried the scent of sickness with him.

When the loft door opened, closed, and Derek was left alone, he figured he had to be dreaming. Because none of this had just happened.

He got a text from Scott later that night. It was all happening. 

It was all  happening. 

The betas came back that night to an empty loft and Derek took off into the preserve feeling like he’d already lost something. Something more than a pack member. Something much more than his anchor.

Derek felt like he’d lost his heart.

  -

November

-

 The thing about dying was that Stiles was suddenly so much more aware of everything around him. The cold temperatures as winter slowly came. The lack of color to his face that he didn’t think had been a problem a few weeks ago. The way the house was so much quieter when his dad spent a solid three days at the station.

The thing about dying was that Stiles was terrified. But at the same time, he’d never felt calmer in his life.

Scott came to his house first. The boy looked at him like Stiles was already gone and then he hugged him close, sobbing into his shoulder. Except unlike at the loft a week ago, Stiles didn’t shed a single tear of his own.

He didn’t think Derek told the betas. Because when Erica came, she’d learned from Isaac who had learned from Scott, and she was downright pissed off.

There was always someone sleeping on his floor. For the next two months there was always someone sleeping on his floor. As if they thought he’d die in his sleep or something.

Stiles hadn’t talked to Derek since that day. The one time he’d seen him in the grocery store, Derek had gone stock-still, Stiles had felt sudden pain like a blow to the stomach, and then Derek had fled without looking back.

In a perfect world, Stiles would have confessed his feelings in the loft two months ago and Derek would have returned them. It would have been a love story with a heart-wrenching ending.

But it wasn’t a perfect world. The only thing Stiles had gotten out that night was realizing how fucking unfair everything around him was.

It was so fucking unfair.

  -

December

-

 Derek thought he’d waited too long. But that didn’t stop him from showing up in Stiles’s room one day and startling the boy so hard, he fell sideways out of his desk chair. 

The smell of sickness was heavy in the air, mixed with that of the pack, and Derek just stood there for a moment, fighting every instinct to turn back around and flee.

Stiles stared at him from the floor for far too long. Then he climbed to his feet, dropped back into his desk chair, turned his back on Derek, and proceeded to pretend like he wasn’t there.

Derek figured he deserved that. Or a lot worse.

“Stiles—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you.”

Suddenly, Stiles was shoving himself back up. He was paler than usual, Derek thought, and the circles underneath his eyes seemed darker. A finger jabbed into his chest and Derek looked down at it before glancing back up.

Stiles’s amber eyes swam with tears. 

“Why now, huh, Sourwolf? Why the hell come now? It’s been nearly three months!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorr— no. Get out.”

Derek tensed, regret crashing over him in an icy wave and Stiles jabbed at his chest again. The tears were slipping down his cheeks now. All he smelled like was sickness, anger, and pain. And it made Derek want to curl in on himself. 

“I needed you here , Derek,” Stiles said, voice cracking. “I needed you by my side. Do you understand that? Does anything in your little wolfy brain understand that?”

Derek clenched his jaw and nodded quietly, even though everything was screaming at him to turn and leave. He wasn’t sure what would be more painful; leaving first or waiting for Stiles to leave him later. He supposed only one part of that thought was selfish.

So Derek didn’t move. 

“I needed you,” Stiles said. “Dammit, asshole, I need you!”

“I’m here.”

“And are you staying?”

Derek didn’t say a word for a second. Then he nodded, the ache in his chest coming back full force. Stiles looked at him for a long moment and then his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“If you vanish again—”

“I’m sorry, Stiles.”

The boy’s scent dropped. For a moment, all Derek could smell was sickness and pain, and then there were faint hints of cinnamon. Stiles nodded with a tear-streaked face. “I know.”

“I should have stayed.”

“You should have.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not again.”

Another tear slipped down Stiles’s cheek. The boy met his gaze mournfully and then before Derek could react, there was a warm bundle in his arms. He blinked for a moment and then held the boy tighter, a million scents filling his nose as Stiles pressed against his chest.

I’m so sorry.

Derek lost the floor beneath his feet all over again as he held Stiles while he cried.

  -

January

-

 Derek had never seen all the Star Wars before.

Stiles changed that.

  -

February

-

 “Have you ever been stargazing before?”

Derek shook his head quietly. Stiles’s eyes hadn’t left the night sky but Derek hadn’t been able to tear his own from the constellation sitting right next to him. They sat on the hood of the jeep on the edge of the preserve, after Stiles had basically dragged him here spouting things about a meteor shower. As if a shooting star was the most interesting thing to happen in Beacon Hills.

You know, other than werewolves.

But Derek had been spending the past few months attached to Stiles’s side and he wasn’t about to break away. Sometimes, it was like he could forget why he’d grown so attached. Other times, when he was sleeping on the boy’s bedroom floor while Stiles snored in the bed, it hit him like a punch to the throat.

Stiles didn’t look like he was dying.

Not now, at least, eyes bright and fixed on the night sky. There were some days that Derek was terrified to enter his bedroom, the scent of grief and grey so strong that it made him feel sick. Stiles would wake up screaming from nightmares and Derek would spend the rest of the night cradling the boy in his arms while Stiles begged not to end up like his mother.

Not for the first time, Derek was struck by the sudden urge to bring up a certain topic that he was still surprised Stiles had avoided. One involving Derek’s red eyes, Stiles’s amber ones, and the one thing that could either save his life or end it early.

Derek hadn’t said a word. Neither had Stiles.

But he thought about it far too often.

“My mom knew all the constellations,” Stiles said, eyes still fixed on the sky. “My dad would drive us to the most secluded area on the darkest nights just so she could point them all out. I don’t… remember many.”

Once more, sadness hit Stiles’s scent like a tidal wave. Derek swallowed hard.

“I’m so scared, Derek,” Stiles said, voice shaking. “Scared I’ll forget about that. About my dad. About… about you.”

Derek swallowed hard. Stiles brushed at his eyes.

“I don’t want to forget.”

And what was Derek supposed to say to that? He resisted the urge to gather Stiles in his arms and just hold him close. Because he didn’t want the boy to forget either. If the day came that Stiles didn’t recognize him, Derek might very well shatter.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

Derek’s eyes burned. A single tear made its way down his cheek, feeling like poison against his skin. And, finally turning his gaze upward, he just silently wished. Wished Stiles would be okay. Wished everything could be alright again.

Wished that if Stiles died, maybe Derek would die with him.

  -

April

-

 The first time Derek kissed him, it was underneath the covers as Stiles trembled. 

At some point or other, Stiles had started curling up against him when the night was at its darkest, and Derek would never say no. He was used to Stiles plodding across the loft, feeling the bed dip as he lowered himself onto the mattress, and brown hair would tickle his nose as Stiles buried his face right into the crook of Derek’s neck.

Tonight was one of those nights. Derek blinked himself out of sleep as Stiles crawled into bed next to him, body shaking as he curled up against Derek’s chest.

“Nightmare?”

“No.”

“Are you okay?”

Stiles just laughed; a sad, empty sound. The first time Derek had compared this Stiles to the old Stiles, he’d vowed to never do it again. But when Derek heard a laugh like that, so completely void of anything that used to be Stiles, he couldn’t help it.

Stiles turned his gaze upward, amber eyes searching his face. He looked haunted.

“I want to do something stupid.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles flushed a little. 

“But I’d have to be a terrible person to do it and make someone else suffer the consequences of whatever happens. I’m not a bad person, Derek. I… I don’t want to be a bad person.”

“You could never be bad.”

“You don’t know me that well, Sourwolf.”

Derek’s heart ached. He wanted to tell Stiles that yes, he knew him. He knew him so well, sometimes Derek thought his chest could explode. 

He knew Stiles was the idiot to nearly brain himself in a rush to get curly fries. He was the genius that could recite the most random facts just because he thought they were neat. He was the brave one— the one that would risk himself a million times over for his friends. The one that would throw himself underneath the bus to protect those he loved.

Stiles was so good and Derek hurt just thinking about it. Because bad things always happened to good people.

“I want to do something stupid,” Stiles said softly. “Before it’s too late.”

Quietly, Derek nodded. Stiles’s scent turned nervous.

“Please don’t rip my throat out for this.”

When soft lips brushed against Derek’s own, he was pretty sure his mind went blank. He froze for a moment too long, something short circuiting in his brain, and then Stiles was drawing back, apologies already falling from his mouth.

Derek blinked once. Twice. Stiles pushed himself up and looked downright terrified and then, before Derek could think again, he was moving forward and capturing Stiles’s lips once more.

He missed the sound of Stiles’s surprised squeaks.

The first time Derek kissed him, it was out of hungry desperation. On which side, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both. Frantic hands in the darkness and feeling Stiles shiver underneath his touch was never something Derek had expected. Imagined, maybe. But not expected.

It was probably a stupid idea on his part too. Even more so when Stiles kissed him back, hard and hungry, as if he was trying to pretend like the situation was because of anything else.

Derek thought he could pretend too.

Stiles was staying over after too many hours of research. They’d survived the current Monster of the Week and Derek was pissed at him for being his usual self-sacrificing self. Or maybe there was no reason at all. No reason other than Stiles was here and Derek had always known he could lose himself in the taste of him.

But then he realized Stiles was whispering something against his lips. Over and over again like a plea. And for a moment, Derek was so lost in his own head, he almost didn’t understand it.

But then he did. And some part of him shattered.

“Don’t forget, don’t forget, don’t forget—”

  -

May

-

 The first time Stiles screamed when Derek came through his window, he nearly had a heart attack of his own. One moment, he’d been halfway into Stiles’s room, the boy’s eyes glued to his laptop and the next, Stiles was coming at him with a baseball bat in hand.

Derek barely managed to catch it. Stiles’s eyes were wide and full of terror.

“What the hell do you want? What are you doing here? My dad’s the Sheriff, asshole! I swear to god, if you even try and lay a finger on me—”

“Stiles.”

The boy blinked at him. Trembling, poised, and ready to run. Derek felt his throat tightened.

“Stiles, calm down. You know me.”

“No.”

“Stiles, you know me. It’s Derek.”

“N-no. Please leave.”

“Look, I’m going to call your dad, if you can just go over to your bed and wait—”

“Please leave.”

Derek’s heartbeat stuttered. He looked at Stiles for a long moment and then nodded, pulling himself back out the window. He heard the sound of it slamming behind him and dialed the Sheriff’s number, despite knowing Stiles was probably already calling the station.

He felt a little sick. A little dizzy.

By the time Derek heard the faint sound of sirens, he was already moving back into the shadows. Away from the Stilinski house. Away from Stiles’s thundering heartbeats.

Away from the boy that didn’t know him tonight.

  -

July

-

 “You’re not a werewolf.”

“What?”

“You’re not a werewolf,” Stiles said, turning Derek’s hand over in his, their fingers intertwined together. “I used to think you were though. God, how did you even tolerate me?”

Derek swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “You’ve been weirder.”

“Yeah, but dude. Werewolves.”

The rest of the pack was silent. The TV continued to blare whatever movie Stiles had picked out and Derek was pretty sure none of them were paying attention to it. He met Stiles’s eyes and managed to chuckle.

“You wrote a paper on the male circumcision for your economics class. I’ve learned not to underestimate you.”

“Oh my god, you’re too perfect to be real.”

Derek's heart twisted. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against Stiles’s forehead and the boy all but melted into it. Derek wanted to close his eyes and stay in that moment. Stiles right up next to him. The boy’s scent filled with cinnamon and warmth.

Even if it wasn’t all that real.

“Werewolves,” Stiles said again, laughing as he turned back toward the TV. “How did that even come around to be a thing?”

Derek closed his eyes to the sorrowful glow of red.

  -

August

-

 “What if I wanted the bite?”

Derek stiffened on the couch, slowly closing his book. He hadn’t heard Stiles’s heartbeats or scent approaching the loft and that twisted in his gut more than he would ever admit out loud. Stiles stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and he looked downright pissed.

Derek stood slowly. They hadn’t talked about this yet. He’d been too terrified to bring it up and Stiles had never once said a word.

“The bite?”

“I’m selfish,” Stiles said, voice trembling. “I’m a selfish person and I never wanted to be a werewolf. But I’m not a bad person, Derek. I don’t want to be a bad person. I can’t leave my dad.”

A knot formed in his throat. “Stiles, you’re panicking.”

“Yes, I’m fucking panicking!” The boy’s scent flared and he slammed the door behind him, stalking across the loft. “Do you know what I did this morning, Derek? I got ready for school. I’ve fucking graduated and I still packed my things thinking it was the first day of high school. Do you know how many sticky notes I have on my walls? It’s like the literal Good Place of “Welcome! Everything is fine!” Except everything is not fine!”

“Stiles—”

“No, don’t ‘Stiles’ me! What if I wanted the bite, huh? What would you say then?”

“I’d give it to you.”

“Then why haven’t you offered before?”

Derek swallowed hard. Stiles searched his face, looking both broken and angry. The circles beneath his eyes were as dark as they had been during the Nogitsune. That shook Derek to his very core. “I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“What, by offering me something that could save my life?”

“By offering you something that could end it.”

Stiles straightened, a flicker of fear entering his scent. Derek closed his eyes and took a deep, trembling breath before meeting the boy’s gaze again.

“Not everyone survives the bite.”

“I know that.”

“No, Stiles. If you don’t want to live and I give you the bite, it won’t take. You won’t survive it.”

Stiles looked at him for a long moment. Then a dozen emotions warred across his face and he stepped back, nostrils flaring. “What?”

Derek was scared to meet his gaze. Stiles’s breaths trembled.

“Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to die?”

“No,” Derek said. “No, Stiles, I know you don’t want this. No one wants this. But you are so damn guilty . You don’t scream in your sleep, you apologize. Over and over again. And if I give you the bite without you wanting it, you will die.”

“Why would I want you to give me the bite?”

Derek flinched.

“Scott is my alpha. Scott would be my alpha. I came because I wanted to hear what you thought, Sourwolf, not because I need anything from you. I don’t need anything from you.”

Derek couldn’t look at him. Stiles’s scent wavered.

“I don’t need anything from you.”

“Okay, Stiles.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know.”

“... I don’t want to die, Derek.”

Derek’s heart snapped in two. Stiles was trembling again and, without a world, Derek stepped forward and wrapped Stiles in his arms. The boy didn’t cry. Not today. But his heart thudded loud enough against his chest that it sounded like he was having a heart attack.

“I don’t want to die, Derek.”

“I know.”

“Don’t let me forget that.”

Derek closed his eyes, his throat tightening. It took almost all of the willpower he had left to just nod. Or at least attempt some sort of semblance of that. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Stiles.”

  -

October

-

 “Sooner or later, the bite won’t be able to help.”

Derek closed his eyes, those words hitting too close to home. The rest of the pack was gathered in the clinic and everyone had their eyes fixed on Deaton, Stiles, or Derek. He hated the weight of their stares. Like he could do anything without Stiles agreeing to it.

“You could have two years or ten. But if you wait and it’s not that long, nothing will change.”

“Could I still die from it?”

“Possibly.”

Stiles scoffed, the sound full of hopeless grief. Derek could smell his fear too and he didn’t know which one was more overpowering. “So I could die from the bite or I could die after I lose my mind.”

Standing across the room, the Sheriff flinched. But Deaton didn’t look fazed.

“Or you could survive.”

“So what are the chances then, fifty-fifty?”

“If you wish to survive the bite, they are much greater than that, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles’s eyes tracked over to where Derek stood, his expression betraying nothing. But Derek caught the rest of the pack’s confused looks as they listened to Deaton’s words. And Derek kind of wanted to wring the man’s neck.

“I could give it to you, Stiles,” Scott said, stepping forward. “I would do it.”

Stiles looked at his best friend with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And Derek’s heart sunk as Stiles’s words from two months ago rang through his ears.

He would take Stiles living over anything else in the world. Over being Stiles’s alpha, over being the one guiding him through Derek’s side of the world. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt. Just a little bit.

“I know you would, Scotty,” Stiles said. “But you know what I want.”

Derek blinked. Scott slumped a little as he nodded. Fear, cold and sharp, wrapped around Derek’s heart and he studied Stiles’s face.

“You won’t take the bite?”

Stiles looked at him quietly. Derek shook his head, uncrossing his arms, and all but fled the room. He thought someone said his name, but it was washed out by the heavy buzzing in his ears. The way the world threatened to come apart around him.

Because Derek couldn’t— he couldn’t—

He couldn’t watch Stiles die.

Stiles wasn’t supposed to be the one getting hurt. But he was. He was human; he was fragile. He was going to live as a boy and he was going to die as one. And there was nothing Derek could do to stop that. He’d never felt more helpless in his life.

Derek had promised he wouldn’t let Stiles forget; forget he didn’t want to die. But maybe that had been a broken vow from the start. From the start— from the beginning. Trembling confessions in the loft, studying constellations in the darkness, holding each other close underneath the covers.

Maybe it had all been broken from the start.

Underneath the blanket of stars, Derek threw back his head and howled.

  -

November

-

 “Do you know who I am, Derek?”

“I do.”

“Do I know who I am?”

“You do.”

“I don’t think that’s true anymore.”

  -

December

-

 “Can I drive the jeep again?”

“Not today, Stiles.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“... Did I ask that yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“And what was your answer?”

“Tomorrow.”

  -

January

-

 “I love you, Sourwolf.”

“I know.”

"I don’t want to do this without you.”

“You won’t.”

“I think I’m dying.”

“Don’t say that. You’re going to be okay.”

“... Derek?”

“Yes, Stiles?”

“I don’t want to die. Remember?”

  -

April

-

 Stiles took him out to the preserve one day. And Derek… Derek had learned not to fight these things anymore. Sometimes Stiles took him to strange places and all Derek could do was gather him up again and carry him back home. But sometimes, on the good days, it was like magic.

Stiles would be talking and laughing. Derek thought maybe he was falling in love all over again. And when the blank look came back into Stiles’s eyes, he always broke down into tears.

But something was different today. Stiles was… well, he was nervous. But he was also thrumming with energy. Old Stiles energy.

Derek always hated himself for making that comparison.

Stiles led him out to the preserve and, on the very edge of it, was a blanket and a basket of food. Derek went still, looking at it for a long moment, and Stiles’s eyes danced at his expression.

“Lydia basically did it all, but I’m taking full credit.”

“This is for…”

“One year since your Sourwolf ass kissed me, dude. Or I kissed you. Whatever. And yes, I marked it on my calendar. Shut up, I’m not that big of a mess.”

He wasn’t. He was too unfairly perfect.

Derek didn’t know what to say or how to react, so he just nodded quietly. He was painfully aware of how quickly things could change or go wrong. But he was too scared to let himself dwell on that. Stiles led him over to the blanket and then all but pushed him down.

“We’re stargazing tonight, Sourpuss.”

Derek swallowed hard. “Are you going to teach me the constellations?”

“All the ones I know.”

Derek leaned forward and kissed him. Stiles hummed in delight around his lips, one hand reaching up to tangle through his hair before playful pushing him away. And then suddenly, the nervous energy was back. Stiles kept glancing toward the basket, fingers twitching, and eventually, Derek followed his gaze.

There wasn’t only food inside. Derek pulled out a black video camera and gave Stiles a strange look, who was practically vibrating with nerves now.

“Stiles?”

“That was supposed to be the nighttime finale.”

“Do you want me to put it back?”

“Um… no. I don’t think so, at least. It’s got something important on it.”

Derek started to flip the screen open. But then Stiles caught his arm, fingers curling into the sleeve of his leather jacket. The boy searched his face before nervously licking his lips.

“What’s on there… it’s old. Old enough that I was… in my right headspace, anyway. Scott knows and my dad knows. We’ve already talked.”

“Talked about what?”

“You’ll see.”

Derek didn’t like the strangled grief in the boy’s words. When he flipped the screen open, he found himself gazing at another Stiles of bright eyes and a red sweatshirt. He looked nervous in the camera, even with those bright eyes. But he was grinning despite that.

And then the video began to play.

“Hey, Sourwolf, it’s me. Uh, Stiles? So, I feel like an idiot right now. And a little nervous, I guess. Like I’m making my final message or something. Which, I suppose it could be if things go wrong. But that would suck and I try to be a positive person, so here’s to wishing for good luck?”

Derek glanced sideways at Stiles. The boy’s eyes were fixed anywhere but Derek’s face. 

“So if you’re watching this, uh… fuck. I didn’t ask for the bite earlier. Which, you know. Shitty move on my part. Waiting until now. But maybe I had a reason! Maybe I wanted to make it special. Or I was just scared? That’s probably more like it. I’m so fucking terrified all the time, Der.”

Derek tried to smother a choked sob. He didn’t think he did a very good job.

“But, this is me and hopefully, you’re there too. And you know, we’re doing something disgustingly romantic like watching the stars or whatever. I’m gonna ramble for a bit, you’re gonna give me one of those ‘I can’t believe I love you’ looks and then I’m gonna do something stupid. Just like that one night when I first kissed you. That was stupid, right? This might be too.”

Derek could barely breathe. The Stiles on camera took a shaky breath.

“I never wanted to be a werewolf. You know that. And Scott’s my best friend. But if I ever went to the fluffy side, he wouldn’t be who I called alpha. And he knows that. We’ve come to an agreement of sorts. Or… I told him to accept things and I think he did. Eventually.

I want you, Sourwolf. You know, not just you, but yeah, you.  If I was to take the bite from anyone, it’d be from your fluffy ass. And I know that’s kind of terrible to ask, I mean. Knowing I could die and all, but… I’m dying anyway.

And I don’t want to die.”

Derek slapped the camera screen closed, his eyes burning. Stiles startled at his side and amber eyes finally snapped upward. The boy looked downright terrified. And Derek could barely think straight for a moment.

“Derek?”

“You want me to give you the bite?”

“I do.”

Derek looked at him for a long moment. He kept trying to tell himself this was real, this was happening, but suddenly, it was too fast. “Do you want it?”

“Isn’t that the purpose of saying I do?”

“Stiles, do you want it?”

The boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I meant what I said. On there. I, uh, want you. Fuck, I want you, Der. And I know that’s kind of shitty in case I die because you’re a big fluffy asshole who will blame yourself. But—”

Derek studied his face, searching for a lie in Stiles’s voice. But he couldn’t find a single skip to his heart. His own chest felt strangely tight.

“Derek, you’re the one I’d call alpha. No one else.”

“If it doesn’t take, I’m the one that killed you.”

“I know. But if it doesn’t happen, I’m going to die anyway. And not before I’ve forgotten everyone I love. Not before I’ve forgotten you.”

Derek didn’t know which sounded more painful. He started to open the video camera again, just to see the message once more time— to make sure it was Stiles, it was his Stiles, it was true— when the boy brushed gentle fingers over his face and offered a small, sad smile.

“I’d call you alpha.”

Derek closed his eyes. Stiles traced his fingers underneath his chin and moved forward, kissing him softly. As if it were both a promise and an apology; whichever came first.

“How do you want it?”

Stiles pulled back a few inches. “My neck.”

“When do you—”

Stiles curled his hand in Derek’s hair and guided his head downward. Derek’s heartbeat stuttered in his chest as Stiles turned his throat upward, baring white skin for him. He’d seen this a million times, but Derek had never felt so terrified before.

“Stiles...”

“Please, Derek.”

Derek didn’t think he could face the Sheriff or Scott again if the bite didn’t take. If Stiles died in his arms out here, underneath the moonlight with a video of a smiling, bright-eyed boy in his lap, Derek didn’t think he’d be able to look himself in the face again.

“Derek, please.”

And Stiles was human. Fragile, wasn’t he? Except he’d always been the stronger one. Derek wasn’t ashamed of how terrified he felt as his sharp fangs brushed along the place between Stiles’s shoulder blade and neck. The boy shivered but didn’t pull back. Between the two of them, Derek was probably more afraid.

“I love you,” Stiles said softly. Derek shuddered and before he could stop himself, bit down. The hand in his hair tightened as Stiles startled. The other rubbed gentle circles over his back.

I’m so sorry.

Derek tasted blood, Stiles jerked against him, and in Derek’s lap, the video began to replay.

“Hey, Sourwolf, it’s me—”

  -

June

-

 “Do you remember him?”

“Him?”

“Old Stiles.”

“Shut up.”

“Cause this is fluffy Stiles now and that means I’m no longer inclined to be your go-to research guy—”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh why yes, alpha — wait, bad wolf! I’m sorry!”

  - -

Did this break me writing? Just a little bit. But did I have fun with it? ... Jury is still out. I might write a part two at some point! For a lil bit of beta Stiles which could be fun ;)

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your struggling student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[tripleaxeldiaz]

🌟 (I'm @khalesprix btw)

thank you friend!! hmm i don’t have a specific section in mind for anything, but i’ll talk about bts for subtle as a brick in the small of my back:

this was my first fic i wrote for any fandom in almost 2 years and it took me a month to write

the title is from the bridge of seventy times 7 by brand new. i was listening to it one day while i was writing it and was like “...oh that’s perfect”

(that’s how i get most of my fic titles tbh)

my favorite section is athena’s section -- i fully believe that they still have all of bobby’s wedding planning stuff in a crawlspace or something and are waiting for someone else to get married so they can hand it all off

the movie buck and eddie are watching at the end is bill and ted’s excellent adventure

send me fanfic writers: director’s cut questions!

[luifairesaigner]

Thanks for the tag @buddiextarlos this is so cute!!! 💖💖💖

enemies to lovers or friends to lovers // coffee shop au or flower shop au // hurt/comfort or there was only one bed // found family or partners in crime // canon compliant or canon divergent // domesticity or pwp // fluff or angst with a happy ending // misunderstandings or major character death // 1st person pov or 3rd person pov // soulmates or forbidden love // roommates or fake dating // slow burn or meet-cute // love triangle or polyamorous relationship // secret relationship or unrequited love // royalty au or magic au // high school/college au or neighbours au // mutual pining or idiots to (idiots)lovers

Feel free to ignore but I’m tagging @christopherismybuddie @bi-as-folks @carlosandtk @khalesprix @wisequietness and anyone else who wants to do it 💜

[matan4il]

Tag list for this fic! If you'd like to be added/removed from my tag list for meta/fics, please let me know! xoxox

(because Tumblr is dumb, here's part 3)

@maleficent088 @mj-y-shit @acrowbyanyothername @livingwherethesidewalkends @itsmylifekay @baddygab-bi @stagefoureddiediaz @timothyonlyfans @bigbuttfalcon @shortsighted-owl @lemotmo @buckistheman @mordmil @carolinahope @dickley-buddie @latinabuckley @goddessathenagrant @kitchenisking @oldsouldreamer85 @khalesprix @emvydiaz @mynanimmous​ @toboldlynerd @corgiqueen14 @poughkeepsies @buckleywarrior @buddiebeginz​ @anykindofbtrgirl @hexverona

Fic: When It Is Loved (5/?)

Summary: Prince Eddie has always done what is expected of him, whether it be in battle, in the court or in his personal life, no matter how much he wished he didn’t have to. Following the death of his wife, Eddie is expected to serve the greater good once more: to marry for king and country’s benefit. In what feels like an infinite procession of pampered royals come to win him like a trophy, a handsome man catches his eye. Offering no information on his name or where he came from, the stranger is a mystery that just might take Eddie’s mind off the trap he’s in.

Posted as part of the @the118discord’s reverse big bang event at @911reversebang. Thank you so much to the incredible Squidded for the inspirational moodboard and playlist (Spotify link on AO3). Check out this talented lovely’s beautiful choices for this fic prompt on Tumblr and please give out some much deserved love! Also sending love to the wonderful @dlanadhz for beta'ing this fic as well as for helping me with the summary, since I suck so badly at that.

Chapter One (read it on AO3 by clicking the link)

Chapter Five

[ice-mage]

Tag game

I was tagged by @khalesprix, @luulapants, and @wolfflock. Rules are:  show you my lock screen pic, the last song I listened to, and the last photo I saved on my phone, and then tag 9 people.

I don’t listen to music that often, so I used the podcast that I am currently listening to.

Not nine, but I am tagging @slut4sterek @pdxtrent @staffofoppression @onibaloney @maytheamazing and @funkyracoon

[halinski]

Tagged by @khalesprix who gave us queen Lydia vibes!! 💕

This picrew

Tagging: @kcfriedchicken @bakausagiwithwings @outrunningthedark @wolfile

[kissmeaboutit]

rules: tag 10 people you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @yelenabelous and @etherealtauruss

Relationship Status: Painfully single

Favorite color: Lavender, Mint and yellow

Three favorite foods: Mac and Cheese, Shrimp/Crab and Ravioli

Song stuck in my head: Lay All Your Love on Me from Mamma Mia

Last song I listened to: All Around Me by Flyleaf

Last thing i googled: Drake and Josh Grapefruit scene. My friend and i laughed over this scene for 10 minutes

Time: 3:17 pm

Dream Trip: Italy or Hawaii

Anything I really want right now: I normal sleep schedule

Tagging: @matan4il @tabbytabbytabby @hennwilson @khalesprix and uhhh anyone who wants to!!

[hazinhoodies]

Attachment (Teaser)

Tom Holland x Reader

Thanks to @gioandreolli for the mood board!

A/N: steph posting another series? wild. Well luckily this one is already pretty much done and prewritten. i’m so so excited about this. It’s based off the musical 36 Questions so let me know what you think. Of the fic, not the musical. But if you listen to it letme know what you think too cause I’m addicted

Word Count: 681 (series word count: ~24000 over ?? parts)

“I just have to do it.” You knock on the door a few times and the sound of the drilling stops and the floorboards creak. You knock again.

“Tom? I can hear you on the other side of the door. You might as well just open it.” There’s more creaking, You wait for a moment, hopeful that the door will open. It doesn’t.

“Or you can leave me hanging. Tough, but fair, considering the circumstances. I’m gonna slip something through the mail slot, if that’s okay.” You start to push the wide manila envelope through the door. “Let me know when you’ve opened it and I’ll just... Stare at these trees, I guess.” You turn around and look at the trees that hid his property from the street like you said you would, as the crumpling of the envelope getting pulled through the mail slot rings in your ears from behind you.

You slap your arm, having killed a mosquito in the process, and you notice more of them around you, flying around the porch light.

“Mosquitos! Fun.” There’s more creaking from behind you. “Okay, so I guess there’s two options. Either you’re my husband Tom Holland who had a brief stint as an actor when he was young and now teaches drama at the school you went to, or you’re some stranger in his childhood home. Either way, it’d be great if you opened the door.” The buzzing of the mosquitoes gets louder around you and you swat at your leg. “Also I really have to pee, so…”

You trail off for a moment, when there's another creak behind you, you give in.

“Fine. I’ll play your game. I’m not me, you’re not you.” You start and sigh. The two of you used to do this a lot. Whenever there were arguments you wouldn’t be each other. The entire argument would happen as if you were outsiders, not necessarily in third person, but more as a separate point of view. You never really understood it but Tom thought that it made communication more clear, both of you were less likely to shout at the other, and so you went with it, because he liked it, and you loved him.

“Whoever you are behind that door, you seem to have a lot in common with my husband, Tom. You guys have the same car so maybe you bought it off him, but the plates are the same, so maybe you’re just a really bad thief.” You laugh to yourself quietly before continuing. “So anyways. It makes me feel like I know, somehow. Like we’ve met before. Whether you’re Tom or not, you have a zillion reasons not to trust me,” you pause for a moment, “or whoever I am. But for what it’s worth, I don’t know who I am, either. But I do know that, for the first time in my life, I’m sure. I’m certain of something for once. I drove like thirty hours to get here and changed a tire in the middle of a storm. I know that you’re there, and I know that you’re listening. You deserve to get to know the person you’re trying to forget,”

There’s nothing, not even a creak.

“There’s mosquitoes everywhere, please.”

You hear the lock turn and you turn around with it but the door is still closed. There’s a sigh from the other side and then Tom’s voice follows

“I’m only letting you in so that you don’t get eaten alive,”  Tom says. His voice is raspy, tired, and annoyed. Under different circumstances you’d instantly have your arms wrapped around him and the two of you would be on the couch, letting everyday stresses slip away, but now you know that you’re part of the reason that he’s tired and annoyed.

“So you’re saying I won’t get eaten alive inside?” You say a little too comically as the door creaks open.

“Not by mosquitoes,” Tom deadpans at you for a split second before he’s turning around and already walking away, telling you to close the door behind you.

tags (taglist form link in my bio)

@hjosterfield @gioandreolli​ @nokiaholland​ @badhollandfluff​ @devilmendes  @khalesprix @soccerstud004 @phia-eilice @itseightbeats 

[oneawkwardcookie]

tag 9 people you’d like to know better/catch up with.

tagged by @prodigalleverage, who could never annoy me with a tag!

last song: The Bones ft. Hozier by Maren Morris...on loop 😅

last movie: Not watched a movie since Knives Out, unless you count me starting to rewatch The Old Guard again!

currently watching: I started watching Schitt’s Creek yesterday

currently reading: Going through the back-catalogue of AC’s fics on AO3, and I’ve also got Zee’s latest open

currently craving: savoury pancakes with Christmassy parnsips and carrots, which I planned to make for lunch but I’m too tired to stand at the hob for any amount of time right now

Tagging: @levinson-mannion, @jessie2126, @madamewriterofwrongs, @maddiebuckleyweek, @khalesprix, @tarlosbuddie, @historic-old-guard-lover, @gracieli and @221bsunsettowers

[stilin-ski]

Okay okay @wickedstilinski tagged me in this so here we go I’ll do my best.

1. name: Olivia or Liv. Either is fine.

2. gender: yes

3. sign: Taurus

4. height: 5’6 (5’5 and 3/4)

5. time: the current time? 6:36 pm

6. birthday: no

7. fav band(s): Fleetwood Mac, Led Zeppelin (shut up, I know. I know.) Journey, basically the classic stuff. Pink Floyd. Biggggg on Pink Floyd. My friends bands, but I Will Not Release Those.

8. fav solo artist(s): T. Swift 😔✊🏼, Alanis Morissette, Stevie Nicks, Harry Styles, uhh. Others I can’t think of. I’m more of a solo artist person.

9. song stuck in my head: Forgiven, Alanis Morrisette

10. last movie i watched: I have watched a movie at some point.

11. last show i watched: .... supernatural

12. when did i make this blog: yes

13. what do i post: yes

14. last thing i googled: uhhh updates on a cold case I think

15. any sideblogs: mhm. @fo1klor3 and @alterof-winchester

16. do i get asks: occasionally

17. why i chose this url: stiles is cute I like him

18. following: uhh just under 100

19. followers: 460? Some where around there

20. average hrs of sleep: ... next question

21. lucky number: 7

22. do i play any instruments: no

23. what am i wearing: take me to dinner first, geez

24. dream job: acting

25. dream trip: Italy. Seems nice.

26. fav food: probably pasta. Doesn’t matter what kind.

27. nationality: American

28. fav song(s): ask me in a week and it’ll change.

29. last book i read: If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

30. fav fictional universe: spn or teen wolf but only the cool, deep, good ones I built in my head. The real ones suck.

Now I tag people, right? Okay, fine. You’re up, @thatnerdemilyj @khalesprix @yesandmusicals. Carif already got tagged, but you too @nogitsunes. Do it do it do it.

[foreverthemomfriend]

Thank you @novemberhush for tagging me!! 💙

Favourite time of the year?

Spring/fall- specifically the beginning of each, I like the transitioning stages of both seasons

Comfort food?

Carbs? Idk maybe the pizza buns I make, anything hearty and homemade

Do you collect anything?

Do my crystals count? If so then yes

Favourite music artists?

I like Lee Brice, Lady A, Hozier and many more

Current favourite songs?

Wolves- Down like silver

Wait in the truck - Hardy (ft Lainey Wilson)

Soul - Lee Brice

Favourite drinks?

I’m cringing at my basic-ass tastes right now but I like strawberry lemonade rehab monster, coke slushies, tea and orange Gatorade or for boozy options jack and lemonade, Long Island iced tea and almost any mikes hard flavour (except cherry it’s nasty)

Favourite fic?

I can’t pick just one…. Impossible

Favourite video game?

I don’t play many video games but I do enjoy sims and Mario kart

I tag: @evanesdust @yourfriendfrogs @khalesprix @hiddenbookshop and anyone else who wants a turn, no pressure!

Getting to Know You Meme

Thanks for tagging me, @smowkie !😘

Favourite time of the year?

Probably spring these days, when the grey and cold of winter makes way for blue skies and warmer temperatures and the return of the flowers.

Comfort food?

Carbs, carbs and more carbs! Cottage pie, lasagna, pasta, chicken soup and bread.

Do you collect anything?

Not really. I’ve always had a fascination with Russian dolls, but I only own two sets, which could hardly be called a collection.

Favourite music artists?

So many! Okay, just off the top of my head - Josh Ritter, Jason Isbell, Anderson East, The Frames.

Current favourite songs?

Hmm, I don’t know. I’ve been listening to Secret (Acoustic) by Angel Snow and Too Late to Write a Love Song by Riddy Arman a lot lately. Speed Trap Town by Jason Isbell and Lying in Her Arms by Anderson East are also always favourites.

Favourite drinks?

Non-alcoholic? Cola drinks (it doesn’t have to be Coca-Cola, I like Pepsi and even some of the cheaper supermarket own brands too), Cherry Coke (it does have to the Coca-Cola one, the rest just aren’t as nice in my experience) and Dr. Pepper (what’s the worst that could happen, lol). Alcoholic? Cider, rum, whiskey.

Favourite fic?

I couldn’t possibly choose.

Favourite video games?

I don’t play video games so I don’t have a favourite one.

I tag @seylaaurora @portlandwithyou @ttimbradford @mistmarauder @swiftiebuckleys @foreverthemomfriend @fireladybuckley @firemedicdiaz @imwritesometimes @thenimbletree and anyone else who wants to play. Absolutely no pressure on anyone who doesn’t! (I really mean that so please don’t stress if you don’t take up the tag right away or at all.)❤️

[when-they-write-stuff]

Since you posted that prompts list 🙃🙃🙃🙃 85. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” “I’m not jealous.” I neeeeeeed some jelly Derek, luv ya

The first time Stiles went to The Jungle, he’d been a scrawny, pale, sexually-confused teenager. Stiles was pretty sure he’d blundered in and made a complete fool of himself, but that had seemed to be his MO when he was younger. 

When he was younger, Stiles was an idiot. He wouldn’t even attempt to deny that.

But Stiles was a solid nineteen-years-old now and although he never would have seen himself staying in Beacon Hills after high school, he could always follow Scott’s example and claim it to be ‘werewolf stuff.’ Even if he wasn’t a werewolf. Even though he probably could have turned his back on it all whenever he wanted without anyone ever giving him too hard of a time.

But then Stiles could also say Derek had made him stay. Derek Hale and his red eyes. Derek Hale and his grumpy growls that Stiles was totally not head of heels for, thank you very much.

He could even say it was his father, even though Stiles was pretty sure his dad would love to see him a couple thousand miles from this Hellmouth. The point is, Stiles could make up a lot of excuses. But where had he been again?

Oh yeah. His newly understood sexuality and the local Beacon Hills gay club.

Stiles hadn’t planned on going out, he really hadn’t. But then Scott was busy with Allison, Lydia was busy being a genius in another state, and Stiles was pretty sure Derek was kicking his betas asses during their Friday night training. 

Which, uh, no thanks. He didn’t care that Derek offered out the loft to whoever wanted to crash there, Stiles had better things to do than watch shirtless werewolves run around and get beaten up by a man twice their size and much more dangerous to Stiles’s certain… lower regions.

So, when a smirking Jackson had offered an invitation out, did Stiles really have anything better to do? Other than chill in his dorm room that is, wondering when Scott would end up coming back before the night ended. But part of him knew that probably wouldn’t happen until tomorrow. Or, if Stiles was really unlucky, he’d be alone all the way until the weekend ended.

But still, some part of his brain said; it was Jackson. And a couple of years ago, Stiles would have very impolitely said ‘fuck you’, thank you very much.

But this wasn’t a few years ago. And Stiles could agree now that yeah, Jackson wasn’t the complete douchebag that he used to be. And when he was actually tolerating Stiles’s presence, they sometimes got along. 

Sometimes. Stiles was hoping tonight would be one of those nights.

Because he was bored, dammit.

The last time he’d been clubbing was— when was the last time he’d been clubbing? It seemed like the pack was sidetracked every other day with the new monster of the week and Stiles never had any time to himself anymore. He sorely regretted telling Derek his dorm number because the Alpha showed up multiple times each week now, scaring the shit out of Stiles’s floor every time.

His RA wouldn’t even talk to him anymore. But could Stiles really blame the guy? Joe had come by the dorm room once and Derek had nearly gone feral Alpha werewolf on the poor guy.

If Stiles thought about it, Derek tended to nearly go feral Alpha werewolf on anyone that dared get too close to him. But yeah, Stiles didn’t really spend too much thinking about it. Mostly because somehow, Derek had managed to keep the exciting parts of Stiles’s life dry both inside and outside of pack life.

It was like he was werewolf married or something. Just without the perks.

Married to the pack, maybe?

“Hey, Stilinski, where the hell is your head at tonight?”

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts and gave Jackson a startled look. The beta was sitting in his desk chair and scowling, all decked out to be hitting the club. Stiles didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, but his Chemistry book was still open in his lap and he was pretty sure he didn’t remember letting Jackson into his room.

Stiles stared at him for another long moment. Jackson scowled and waved a hand through the air.

“Uh, Stilinski? Earth to the idiot?

“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled, slapping his book shut. He tossed it off of his bed and Jackson caught it with a curse, but there was a definite smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. Stiles all but fell off his bunk bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, grabbing the closest pile of clothes that he was pretty sure didn’t smell too terrible.

But then Jackson was there, eyes flashing blue as he yanked them away. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Are you serious, dude? Those are like, my cleanest clothes.”

“I know. That’s why I brought an outfit.”

Stiles scowled at the beta and considered denying him just to see how snarly Jackson could get before he gave him. But then, deciding to take the path of least resistance, Stiles took the clothes pushed into his arms and turned back toward the bathroom, stumbling inside. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d showered. But it was exams week with the end of the semester finally coming up and Stiles had been living off of Red Bull and ramen, dammit. He couldn’t be expected to be put together.

He really needed this night out.

By the time he came out all showered and dressed, Jackson gave him a sweeping look and then actually look satisfied. Stiles just flipped him the bird, grabbing his keys and wallet off his desk before heading out of his dorm room without waiting for the beta.

He wasn’t doing this for Jackson. But it might mess with Scott a little if he came back early and maybe Stiles was kind of hoping for that.

Or at least he could get so wasted that he’d forget the fact that he’d probably failed his Anthropology final two days ago. But the exam had been hard, okay? Stiles had studied; he had.

Jackson smacked him upside the head when they reached the jeep and told him to stop thinking so hard. Stiles just glared at the beta again.

The last time he’d been clubbing— the last time he’d been clubbing? Stiles was pretty sure it had been with Danny when he was newly eighteen, a few months before the teenager had hightailed it out of Beacon Hills and all the horrors that the town held.

If Stiles had been smart, he probably would’ve followed.

But Stiles wasn’t smart. Not in certain areas at certain times, at least. Which might have been how he was ducking into the local gay club at twelve o’clock on a Friday night, counting down the minutes until Jackson inevitably ditched him. 

Tonight took a little longer than usual. But by the time Stiles had been hanging around the bar counter for going on ten minutes, Jackson just gave him a disappointed look and ducked away.

Stiles shrugged and turned back to his rum and coke.

He didn’t say alone for long, though.

“Your friend told me to introduce myself,” a new voice said, not long after Stiles had worked his way through his second drink. And Stiles really should have expected this.

The guy dropped onto the stool at Stiles’s side and he raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways to take in the dark brown hair that came with a Jackson-approved chiseled face. Still, Stiles shot a glance across the dance floor to see Jackson give him a blue-eyed look, arms thrown around the neck of some other stranger.

Forcing himself not to sigh, Stiles turned back toward the guy.

He could look at him without envisioning dark stubble or grey-green eyes, which Stiles always considered a win. He’d never admit that out loud, but Derek had totally ruined standards for him. Except, Stiles wasn’t pining. Totally not.

He was not pining.

“My name’s Vic,” the guy said, offering out a hand. And of course, it was. Stiles could have survived this night with just a bit of drinking and maybe some wallowing in the bar nuts. But then again, Jackson might never invite him out again.

“I’m Stiles.”

“Your friend already told me.”

“Oh?” Stiles said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that all you’ve heard about me so far?”

“He said you like to dance.”

Sometimes, Stiles really hated Jackson. Had he been a stupid seventeen-year-old again, he totally would have thought this was a prank. But he didn’t need to glance over to see Jackson’s threatening looks, slowly letting himself get pulled up.

The bartender’s look was all too knowing. Stiles slapped a ten onto the counter and let himself get tugged out onto the dance floor.

Stiles wasn’t sure if he had the appropriate buzz for this yet. But then he was surrounded by sweaty bodies and the lights overhead were a little more than blinding. If Stiles concentrated hard enough, the music could be dulled to a thrumming in the background and Vic’s eyes almost seemed to reflect a little bit of green in the overhead lights. Stiles was pretty sure that was all in his own head though, because he was pretty sure the guy’s eyes had been dark brown earlier. But he was allowed to imagine a little, wasn’t he?

Then there were fingertips brushing over the back of his neck and Stiles glanced back to see Jackson. Sweat shone on his forehead and a wicked smirk played along his lips. The beta jerked his chin toward Vic and at some point between song one and song two, Stiles had gone from Jackson pressing up against his back to Vic grinding down against his front. 

Now, this was a much easier way of getting his brain to shut up, Stiles had to admit. With fingers tracing over the back of his neck, Vic dragged a hand through his hair and pulled Stiles toward the crook of his neck with his free hand. Stiles could completely forget about his possible failed exam or complete lack of a roommate right now.

Or Derek. Freaking Derek Hale.

Screw Derek Hale.

Like he could read his spinning thoughts, Vic’s hand tightened in his hair and guided Stiles’s lips up his neck and toward his own. And yeah, Stiles was no stranger to kissing. He’d gone a solid four months with Lydia before her college enrollment took her elsewhere. And he’d tried his hand at hook-ups once upon a time. Though, he’d never really made it past imagining what could be something else.

Something more.

But Stiles wasn’t a lovestruck girl, dammit.

Except then there were warm lips against his own, a tongue prodding into his mouth, and Stiles yanked sharply back. Vic gave him a slightly wounded look and Stiles would have mumbled a series of apologies if he remembered how to string words together. Instead, he just raised a hand and stumbled back, before turning around and fleeing the dance floor altogether.

And what had he been saying earlier? This was the night that he needed out. To get wasted, to forget about everything else.

But Stiles was just wanted to go back to his dark, empty dorm right now.

He thumbed out his phone and went scrawling for Jackson’s name, but then there was a sudden hand on the neckline of his t-shirt. Stiles squeaked as he was yanked sideways and shoved against the nearest wall. For a moment, panic crashed over him and Stiles jabbed his elbow out as hard as he could; but then the returned grunt of pain made him freeze.

“D- Derek?”

The Alpha was bent over a little, growling underneath his breath. Then red eyes snapped up and Stiles’s heart skipped a beat as he went to retreat back even more. Except there was nowhere else to go. The cement of the wall was at his back and Derek slowly straightened, red eyes searching Stiles up and down.

Then the man leaned forward, inhaling deep, and his fangs promptly slid down. Stiles yelped, clapping both hands over Derek’s face, and the man growled from behind them.

“Derek, dude, put those away! We’re in public!”

But Derek was sounding a bit like an actual wolf now, so Stiles just guided him toward the nearest exit, hands still covering Derek’s face. He shoved the door and the moment they were out in the night, Stiles yanked back like he’d been burned. Derek’s eyes were still bright red.

Stiles’s breaths hitched. He batted at Derek’s face, earning another growl. “Derek, you damn asshole. Put those away!”

“What the hell happened in there?”

For a moment, all Stiles could do was stare in confusion. But Derek looked a little bit peeved, a little bit frustrated, and a little bit… hurt? And slowly, the pieces slipped together.

Stiles huffed, despite the way his stomach flipped. “Dude, that’s so creepy, oh my god. Could you try not sniffing out all my recent activities for once? What the hell are you doing here anyway? I thought you trained the betas on Fridays?”

“I do,” Derek said gruffly. “That ended two hours ago. I went by your dorm but it was empty.”

“So you… came here?”

“I was worried.”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment. Then he chuckled and tried to flick at the man’s nose, but Derek just ducked away. Stiles blinked at him then, tilting his head. 

“Dude, what’s up?”

“You smell bad,” Derek said, eyes flickering. “You smell wrong.”

Okay, first of all, Stiles had taken a shower before he’d come here. And second of all— “That’s none your business, Sourwolf.”

Derek drew back, the red fading from his eyes. But instead of looking peeved, angry, or even a little unhappy, he just looked stricken. Like the very fact that Stiles was walking around smelling like someone else was physically painful to him.

And okay, but it wasn’t like Stiles always smelled like himself, alright? He was surrounded by strangers every day.

“Derek, dude, I really don’t know what you wan—”

“Stiles, please.”

Stiles froze, his stomach flipping again. But that seemed to be enough of an answer for Derek because he moved forward again. The man’s nose traced along his collarbone, scenting fingers danced along the back of his neck, and Derek pressed his entire face into the crook of Stiles’s neck as if it was a life or death situation.

Stiles just… well, he just froze. His brain was moving slowly and he knew for a fact that he hadn’t drunk enough to blame this all on the alcohol.

But then slowly, like puzzle pieces, one thing clicked with another. And then Stiles yanked back so hard, he smacked his head against the wall and bit his tongue in the process. Derek whined at the loss of contact, Stiles tasted blood, and then the man was giving him a hurt look. But Stiles’s brain was lingering on one thing right now. 

“Oh my god. You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

In a second, Derek’s stance was guarded. He started to draw back a few inches and the action looked physically painful. The man looked like he wanted to attack Stiles’s neck all over again, but instead, he just folded his arms over his chest and lowered his gaze. 

“I’m not jealous.”

“You are so totally jealous!”

Once more, the red eyes were snapping up and Stiles’s breaths stalled in his throat. Carefully, he stepped forward, uncrossing Derek’s arms, and the man whined again.

“Derek, what do I smell like?”

“Wrong.”

“Yes, but what do I smell like?”

“Not… mine.”

Derek was glaring at the ground again as he said those words. Stiles’s heartbeat stuttered and then Derek was growling. Stiles risked once more step closer. Derek searched his face, almost looking vulnerable.

“Stiles, don’t do this if it's not re—”

“Dude.”

Grey-green eyes flickered in and out of red as Derek clamped his mouth shut. Stiles could still hear the steady thrum of music from the club and the sound of voices from a little way down the alleyway. But he kept his gaze on Derek’s face, nodding carefully. 

"You can change that."

Then he was being crowded against the wall once more.

Stiles couldn’t help but squeak as sharp fangs moved up his neck. They nipped gently underneath his jaw and then traveled back down. But when Derek bit the spot between his shoulder and neck, it was all human teeth. Fingers traced over the back of Stiles’s neck again and Derek growled lightly, sucking marks all the way back up to the underside of Stiles’s chin.

He was so going to be swearing scarves for the rest of the week.

Or… maybe not.

Scott was probably going to flip out. Stiles might have grinned a little bit at that realization.

Then Stiles had lost all contact of the man and he totally didn’t whine at that. Derek moved back a few inches, studying his face, and then his eyes dropped to Stiles’s lips.

“Stiles, can I—”

“Oh my god, kiss me you furry asshole.”

And Jackson was never getting credit for this, ever. Stiles would like to say that he hadn’t come to the Jungle tonight expecting for Derek Hale of all people to show up. But if he’d know this is what would finally do it, he might have had come a long time again.

Derek kissed him softer than he had before. The hand cupping Stiles’s neck moved up to card through his hair and every time Stiles hummed in agreement at a movement, the man growled at the back of his throat. He tasted like mint, smelled like leather and pine, and Stiles totally hadn't imagined this before. He wasn’t a pining school girl, dammit.

But… but Derek kissed exactly like he’d always thought. Though that wasn’t a thing.

Except maybe it was now.

Stiles probably could have stayed there making out with Derek literal Hale all night except suddenly, the doors they ducked out of were banging open. Stiles yelped and pinwheeled back into the wall as Jackson came charging out, snarling and blue-eyed.

But one flash of Derek’s red eyes had the beta curling back into himself. His startled expression snapped from Derek, to Stiles, and back. Then Jackson drew himself up, a wicked smirk curling across his lips, and Stiles knew he was never living this down.

“Oh my god, Stilinski. You so totally owe me.”

“Jackson, get your furry little ass out of here or I swear to god—”

The beta didn’t need to be told twice, apparently. Whether it was from Stiles’s threats, Derek’s growling, or just his sense of self-preservation (did he have one?), because he only smirked one more time before backing away. And then Stiles’s heart skipped a beat as Derek glanced at him again.

And suddenly, he felt nervous. But why did he feel nervous?

“So, Sourwolf…”

“Is all of this okay, Stiles?”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head, moving forward and catching the man’s lips again. Because of course, he had to be in love with this idiot. Except... he kind of liked the way Derek growled at the sharp kiss. He kind of loved the way the man shivered against him and Stiles had caused that. 

Stiles nipped at his lower lip and then drew back with a grin. “I dunno, dude. Care to tell me what I smell like right now?”

Once more, sharp fangs skated down his neck and Derek Hale had totally ruined standards for Stiles. Now and forever. They paused against the bottom of his neck, warm breaths against his skin, and then Derek’s lips curved into a smile as Stiles whined.

“You smell like mine .”

And hell yeah, Stiles could totally be okay with that.

- -

I hope I did this prompt justice! I don't write jealous Derek very often so this was kind of new, but I had fun with it! Thank you so much for the prompt, Khale ma’am <3

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[luifairesaigner]

I was tagged by the beautiful soul that is @buddiextarlos ily 💖💖💖

hot shower or cold shower // texting or calling // earphones or headphones // paperback or hardcover // matte or gel // 12 hour clock or 24 hour clock // blue or green // sunsets or sunrises // tulips or orchids / candle light or moon light // sci-fi or horror // pen or pencil // pandas or koalas // gold or silver // sneakers or boots // denim jacket or leather jacket // pink or purple // wind chimes or dreamcatchers // chocolate or sour candy // deodorant or perfume // drive-in movie theatre or the cinema // pastel colours or neutral/earth tones // butterflies or honeybees // lemonade or iced tea // past or future // constellations or aurora boreali

Tagging @christopherismybuddie @twofirefighterdads @khalesprix and anyone else who would like to do it! 💖

[matan4il]

Tag list part 3

@maleficent088 @mj-y-shit @acrowbyanyothername @livingwherethesidewalkends @itsmylifekay @baddygab-bi @stagefoureddiediaz @timothyonlyfans @bigbuttfalcon @shortsighted-owl @lemotmo @buckistheman @mordmil @carolinahope @dickley-buddie @latinabuckley @goddessathenagrant @kitchenisking @oldsouldreamer85 @khalesprix @emvydiaz @mynanimmous @toboldlynerd @corgiqueen14 @poughkeepsies @buckleywarrior @buddiebeginz @anykindofbtrgirl @hexverona @alyxmastershipper @buddiearemydads @buddiefication @missoliverstark @wanderingwomanwondering @corgiqueen14 @disasterbibuckley @monsterrae1 @evanbuckleysarms @jobairdxx @zunaki @the-likesofus @bylerbrainrot @diazpatcher @favouritealias

Buddie 612 meta

I don’t think we’ve had this much fodder with such few scenes in a long time, and I am LIVING!

Okay, so first of all I have to mention the parallel between 217, when the team was coming in, one by one, to see the suspended Bobby, and this ep, with everyone dropping by one at a time to be there for the recovering Buck. The similarity is of course in the found family connection. In both cases we see the importance of the absent member of the team through these visits. The difference is in the way the team came to Bobby because they need him to be there for them as their captain and friend even when he’s not on the job. But in Buck’s case, they don’t need anything. They’re coming by because they want to be there for him when he needs his team members and friends. Buck’s parents needed a reason to love him. Buck’s found family in this ep is loving him anyway. ~~

I’m gonna scream about the couch in a second, but I have to admit that while I was watching the ep, the moment that REALLY had my eyes shoot wide open and my breaths go into hyperventilation is when Maddie reads the note saying Buck has gone out. Because as soon as it was made clear Buck had chosen to escape his apartment and all of his visitors, I knew where he was headed. First off, the very fact that everyone else came to him, while Eddie was the one person Buck chose to go to already had me biting my fists. Once more, like in so many other cases (for example, when the lightning hit and Eddie was filmed differently to everyone else in the 118, or the way he was the only absent person in Buck’s dream and the only one Buck remembered without needing a physical object to jog his memory), Eddie is singled out as having a unique space in Buck’s life that no one else occupies. And of course there is this domestic quality and element of choosing each other as we see them repeatedly opening the door for and to get to the other one. ~~

But just think of the meaning! This man puppy, who only ever wanted to be loved and who’s being showered with attention and care, is absolutely restless because he’s having a hard time and feels like he has to pretend with the people he loves the most, and therefore he’s failing to fall asleep on his own couch. He seeks comfort in a connection that’s even deeper than the people who have been to see him, where he can really be himself without pretense. And that’s what’s insane, because he was visited among others by Maddie and Hen, his loving blood and adoptive big sisters. NO ONE can claim that his r/s with them is anything other than deep, and yet when he needed something more, when he needed an escape, when he needed a place where he could simply rest and be himself, he went to Eddie’s. This isn’t just Buck standing in Eddie’s kitchen declaring, “I’m not really a guest” in 311. This is him being more of a guest in his own apartment than in Eddie’s house. This is him being home and safe and able to JUST BE in Eddie’s space.

This is Buck beginning his healing by sleeping on the SAME couch where Eddie did in 514, connecting their healing in a parallel that is going to make me tear my own hair out. Which actually connects us back to 407, when Buddie talk about Buck’s need for his loft to be his safe space. Now it’s canon that this desired safe space is Eddie’s home, and I will chew through every piece of glass out there before I calm down from this. Once again, there are opposite sex canon couples on TV who never get this level of soulmate development! ~~

Oh, I also found it very interesting that Buck tells Maddie about his list he goes through every time he wakes up, to make sure he’s not in the coma world. We didn’t see him going through those steps when he woke up on Eddie’s couch. Remember how I said Eddie had to be absent in the dream world or Buck might not have made it out of there? Well, this ep adds to that. By virtue of being the only one who’s fully absent, it means Eddie is the one person whose very presence is a cue for Buck that he’s in the real world and safe, the only one who, by simply being there, negates the need for a list. I AM MELTING. (my gif, please excuse the awfulness) ~~

Speaking of soulmates bonding, I have to point out the opposite sex soulmates we do have in this very ep. Bobby confesses that Athena is it for him because she makes him feel like he’s standing on solid ground, she helps him be himself by finding again a piece of him.

We also see her becoming a part of his healing process when he allows her to come to his AA meeting. This is exactly what we see Buddie going through in 612! Eddie is Buck’s solid ground, the person he can count on and who can provide him with rest (that’s what solid ground represents), who allows him to simply be himself, and Eddie is also a part of the healing process that Buck allows him into by seeking out Eddie, and by opening up to him when Eddie asks him to, after finally getting some rest on the couch… ~~

That brings me to the couch because that in itself is just… Wow, this show really hates my nails and wants me to chew on them fully, I see how it is. Let’s not forget for how long the couch metaphor has been with us! Once Taylor and Buck discussed their couches situation when she was moving in with him in 513, and it was clear there was an incompatibility issue because she was bringing in a couch while he already had one (meaning they had already failed to communicate about this pretty basic point), it was clear they’d have to choose only one and dispose of the other. Very tellingly Taylor doesn’t really leave room for choice, so Buck (who only asked her to move in out of guilt) gave up his for hers. That’s the start of the couch being a metaphor for his romantic relationships, and I can’t believe it started a whole season before this ep! And then when Taylor moved out in 518, he was left with none? But that wasn’t unhinged enough for our show, so they brought it into an even greater focus with the lasagna scene in 601, when it was made even clearer that the “right couch” for Buck is about his romantic partner, that he’s aware of that significance, and that he admitted to it IN EDDIE’S PRESENCE. I can’t believe Buck fell asleep like that on Eddie’s couch, when they BOTH KNOW what the couch means. This is the most naked two men have ever been with each other on a TV show without taking their clothes off! Then Buck’s parents get him a couch he doesn’t want, one that’s all wrong for him, one he didn’t get to CHOOSE, so unsurprisingly he can’t sleep on it. That would have been a lot already, but then this ep turns around and SLAMS US IN THE FACE with Eddie’s couch being the right one for Buck to fall asleep on and to do so effortlessly! Two seconds on it, and Buck was out. That’s okay, 911, I just have to work a double shift while I’m sick today, I didn’t need to also have my sanity. You absolutely can have everything left of it. (my gif, please excuse it) ~~

I know it’ll sound dumb, but I was happy crying over the beers in Eddie’s fridge and the zoomed in shot we got of them. Look, it’s their thing, right? We’ve seen the two of them sipping on beers together in the iconic 309 kitchen scene (NGL, the oral sex scene in my Blue Against Blue fic was inspired by this), and it’s been a repeated theme, so when I saw Eddie had no less than 6 beers easily accessible in the top shelf of his fridge, chilling away, it screamed “This is my Buck stash” to me.

I will forever be a mess that Eddie Diaz, tough war veteran, actually has a supply of beers ready in his fridge for whenever soft man puppy Evan Buckley drops by unannounced. Can you imagine when Eddie goes grocery shopping and he probably smiles softly to himself when he buys his Buck beers? These two are so domestic and in love and equally soft about each other, it’s gross. And by gross I mean I love it, please gimme more. ~~

Oh, but the domesticity just keeps leveling up in this ep! Because then Buck wakes up and makes his way to the kitchen, where he just… lets Eddie take care of him by serving water. And it’s so tender and husbandy, and affectionate, and connects so perfectly to Eddie asking Buck to share with him. Because Buck wouldn’t let others fuss over him, but he lets his hubby take care of him. And he doesn’t tell others, even ones who are significant people in his life, where he’s really at, but he will share everything with Eddie. Not to mention that it doesn’t take much to get him to open up. All Eddie has to do is ask, and despite Buck’s initial announcement not to, he just goes right ahead and spills. I am inhaling and exhaling into the palms of my hands.

Of course, tucked in there is also Buck asking Eddie about the shooting. We all remember Buddie holding eye contact through that and Eddie reaching out to him, right? Or everything that transpired between them in the ambulance, all of it so romantically coded… This scene tells us that Eddie doesn’t remember those bits. I find it interesting to consider that maybe Eddie really doesn’t. That maybe the reason he hasn’t figured out yet how he feels for Buck is because he blanked out on the way he turned to Buck during the most intense moments of his life, and the ones he thought were his last. ~~

I mentioned during the hiatus in replies to asks I got that I suspected just like the distance between Buddie in 5a served to bring them closer together in 5b as Buck helped Eddie with his healing, the same structure was being followed in s6, just in the reverse, where Eddie will eventually help Buck. You can’t imagine how deep and meaningful I find it, that the show has actually structured these two seasons as counter paralleling each other, and showing Buddie as being a vital part of this mutual healing, so I tried to demonstrate that with this gifset. ~~

Last one! The cardiologist. Look, I already mentioned in my previous weekly meta that the heart theme started with Eddie, and then it was expanded to Buck. I find it insane that the show really hammered it home by having the same cardiologist be the doctor for both men, and that while she’s at it, she hints to both that their issues are not purely physical. How long before the metaphor-loving Buck catches on? IDK, but every single choice about this ep feels incredibly deliberate, when so much is condensed into so few scenes.

(my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ I can’t explain how much I’m asking of the amazing @whosoldherout​ for the gif requests, and the results are always so stunning, I’m deeply grateful!

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m sick and took three different medications to be semi-functional, so I really hope you’ll like this. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you did! xoxox