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autisticempathydaemon · 2 years ago

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I find my paradise (when you look me in the eyes)

“We are going to play a game,” Christian says, holding himself aloft and watching Alexis's expression twist into genuine, curious confusion. “A fun game where you tell me what to do and I do the opposite, where you look me in the eyes and watch me disobey you.”

cw: nsfw, Alexis/Christian, D/s dynamics, negotiated Consensual non-consent, slight Aftercare, Autistic-coded Alexis, Christian helping Alexis cope with guilt and intimacy issues through kink

Sequel to with love in her eyes (and flowers in her hair

Also available to AO3!

Author's Note: Though I've done my research and attended classes on the subject, I do not claim to write completely RACK-compliant CNC as I do not have any personal experience with it. I do try my best, however, and want to impress that, during the scene, Alexis is completely cognizant of the fact that she has several ways to stop or have Christian stop what they're doing if she doesn't like it or doesn't want to; saying no is just not one of them.

“Twilight lied to me,” Christian murmurs, leaning down to trail his lips down smooth, rose-scented skin. Next to his ear, Alexis laughs a touch too breathily to pass as unaffected.

“Twilight, wrong? Perish the thought, cher ,” she says in a husky alto, dry humor and French endearment rolling off her tongue like heady smoke. Fingers brush through his hair, scratching tingling lines down his scalp, lighting up his nerves like fire, and Christian thinks he may burn if he doesn’t kiss her, so he does. Pressing Alexis into the mattress, her body and lips held flush and eager against his, only serves to ignite his blood further, and they’re both panting with poorly disguised breathlessness when he pulls away. “Enlighten me then.”

“Books said vampires are basically made out of pale, cold stone, but you…” Christian says with a cheeky grin and a warm, encompassing hand moving to cradle her cheek. “You seem pretty warm and soft and red under me, petal. Very pretty.” Under his touch and gaze, Alexis’s skin colors even darker, and he is so simultaneously endeared and turned on when his vampire playfully bites at his thumb nudging against her lips.

“Yes, well, Twilight implied all you shifters imprint. Is that what this is, your wolfy senses gettin’ the better of you?” Christian bares his teeth to match hers, and Alexis’s eyes- flinty, steely, shining- defiantly glance into his. Her gaze always dares him to banter, to snark, to prove his bite is as good as his bark, and Christian has never been one to turn down a dare.

“No wolf here, princess; just me.” His hand travels slowly, fingertips teasing down cheek, neck and collarbone before undoing the top button of her shirt. Christian dips his head down to kiss the newly exposed skin, brown eyes nearly black, watching through mussed hair like a predator stalking through a forest. Alexis closes her own and tosses her head to the side, trying her best to hide her blush in the pillow beneath her head and failing. Despite his taunting, Christian’s smirk is undeniably canine in nature as he undoes another button and drags his teeth along the swell of her breast.

“No imprinting, no magic.” More buttons undone, more skin revealed, more kisses fervently proffered in an unholy palmers prayer. “Just me meeting the most beautiful woman in Dahlia and knowing I had to have you.” When he sits up, hands wrapped around her waist, Alexis has her forearms over her eyes in an adorably bashful gesture that has Christian digging his fingertips into the soft, yielding flesh and gently tugging on her belt loops. “Will you let me have you, petal?” She nods without hesitation, lifting her hips beneath him, and Christian eagerly but carefully pulls Alexis’s jeans down her legs and watches her body as they take this new step together.

Learning to love his girl is like learning a new language that’s all hands and legs and no words. When she’s angry, she curls full, red lips into a snarl, clenching pretty hands into fists at her sides. When she’s so rarely nervous, she fidgets with her long hair, twirling it around twitching fingers. When she’s happy, she rocks on her feet and bites back a smile with little white fangs digging into her bottom lip. She is a neglected Romance language, and him her devoted, studious scholar. When Alexis shudders beneath his touch, clinging with bare calves curled around his waist, Christian can’t help but compare her pleasure and want to an ancient text that yields its secrets to only him.

“You’ll give a guy a complex, covering your eyes like that,” he jokes, taking off his shirt and tossing it aside. “What, am I not pretty enough for you, Princess?” Alexis stifles a giggle in her arms, and Christian traces nonsense shapes into her sides until she can’t hold it back anymore.

“You know damn well you’re pretty,” she says with a quiet gasp. “Too well, I might add. I’m surprised there’s even room for me in your bed with your huge-” Alexis gasps again, louder and higher, when Christian’s hands move up from her ribs to squeeze and caress her breasts. He thumbs at nipples poking through a thin, crimson bralette and is glad for just a brief moment that she can’t see him and the goofy, adoring smile he must have on his face.

“Your confidence it’s huge sight unseen is pretty flattering, I will admit.” Alexis’s chest shudders beneath his touch from both heaving breath and suppressed laughter, and it’s a sight the werewolf could definitely get used to.

“I was gonna say your ego and you know it, you Aussie bastard. Why do I even put up with you?” she says, voice laced with bluster instead of hostility, dripping southern comfort instead of venom.

“Mmm, because you like my ego.” Christian says, leaning down to nip at soft, (for now) unblemished skin. “And my hands… and my teeth… and my voice.” Every word is punctuated with open-mouthed kisses till he’s holding himself above her still-covered face and running teasing lips over the fingers curled in fists over her eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on me, pretty girl.”

“I tolerate you,” Alexis says with that little flash of the teeth she does when she thinks she’s being funny, and Christian laughs, because she is , before playfully nudging his nose with hers.

“Try looking me in the eyes and saying that to my face, brat.” Alexis’s smile dims for just a flash, fingernails digging into her palms, and Christian can read the hesitation clear as day in the marks they leave behind. “Petal?” Her hands shift slightly, and he can just glimpse dark silver eyes focusing on his forehead, hair, collar, cheekbones, anywhere but his own.

“What kind of man bothers me about my face when he could be getting me undressed?” Alexis snarks, knee nudging against his ribs. Christian kisses soft, bed-tousled hair before pressing his forehead to her clenched fists.

“The kind of man you like, apparently. The kind who’s into the cute expressions you make-” Alexis’s legs tighten around him, urging him closer, but he resists, pushing to hold himself up and give her some space. “-and thinks maybe it’s time to settle in for the night.”

“ What ? Why?” Alexis reaches for his shoulders, and Christian smiles down into those wide, longing eyes finally meeting his before the silver tarnishes with panic. She moves to cover up her face again like that’s the new, vulnerable territory they’ve explored tonight, and he beats her to it, taking her wrists in his hand and gently pinning them above her head.

“Pretty girl, I love it when you act all coy with me. It’s cute when you huff and pout…,” Christian says, leaning down to pepper quick, reassuring kisses to her forehead. “…when I’m actually sure you want me to touch you.”

“If I didn’t want you to, I wouldn’t let you.” Sharp fingernails pinch at the back of his hand as if he would ever want to forget Alexis could throw him off even at her hungriest, as if he wasn’t aware her stillness is a gift. Christian pulls away, and she gazes down at his lips with a single minded attention that would be flattering if it weren’t so fraught.

“It’s hard to make sure you’re comfortable and happy when you can’t make eye contact with me.” The hand not wrapped around her wrists cradles Alexis’s cheek, and she leans into the touch even as she rolls her eyes to the headboard.

“I can look at you. I’m just choosing not to,” she mutters in a petulant voice that belies the adoring way she nestles her cheekbone into the crook of his fingers.

“Lex, you do understand that doesn’t really help, right?” Christian says, playfully flicking her nose in that way she pretends to hate but always compels her lips to curl at the edges like paper lit aflame. Even with the hint of a smile shining through, her shuttered, overcast gaze doesn’t brighten.

“It helps make sure I can’t trance you.” Thin, strong wrists twist anxiously in his grasp, and Christian’s blood that had run so lava-hot just a moment before petrifies in his veins as he looks down at his girl. “It helps make sure I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to… or hurt you.”

“I’d love to see you try.” The werewolf’s signature cocky tone comes out in a growl, gruff and compelling, and when Christian grasps her jaw to pull her lips to his, the sound of it resonates through her skin and throat till she can feel it in her heart. They just barely part, his breath smoldering and sweet against her skin, and Alexis feels dazedly, blissfully overstimulated with his intensely bronze eyes so close, holding hers in place. “But you wouldn’t.”

“But I could -” she begins to protest and writhe, only for Christian to tighten his grip and kiss her again, his tongue tracing her fangs in that way he does that steals her breath away.

“I know you wouldn’t, petal,” he whispers against her lips, grazing them with his teeth until Alexis’s voice whimpers without her permission. “You would never hurt me.”

“Are you stupid? I could rip you apart and make you beg me to end it all.” The threat comes out tremulous and shaky, none of his vampire’s usual put-upon attitude to be found, and the werewolf finds himself furious, not at her audacity, not at her words, but at the timid, fearful way she says them. Shutting her up with another kiss, Christian pulls away just enough for his honey-blonde hair to frame both their faces like blinders. Alexis has nowhere to escape from his challenging, dauntless, inexplicably fond gaze.

“Do it, then. Try to tell me what to do.” She blinks up at him, and it warms Christian’s heart to see that familiar, shimmering silver staring back at him with wonder instead of trepidation. “Watch me not listen. Command me and see if I actually obey your spoiled princess orders.” Alexis laughs, that light, high tone she gets when mirth catches her by surprise, the one that sounds like how summer honeysuckle tastes.

“You’re crazy,” she says, squirming as he insistently kisses slipping eyelids until they open again, her gaze wary and heated and shy, though she’d never admit it. (Christian realizes, for the first time and probably not the last, that he’s the only one to get these glimpses into Alexis’s soul and that he quite likes it that way.) “What are you playing at, cher ?”

“ We are going to play a game,” he says, holding himself aloft and watching her expression twist into genuine, curious confusion. “A fun game where you tell me what to do and I do the opposite, where you look me in the eyes and watch me disobey you.”

“That doesn’t sound fun…” Alexis hedges, worrying her lip in that way she does, but relaxing softly when Christian runs his free hand up and down her side, a familiar, firm, grounding touch.

“It can be. I get to see that pretty face, I get to be a contrary asshole, which you know I love, and you get to lay there and enjoy yourself because you’re not the one calling the shots here.” A teasing finger slips below the band of her bralette only to snap the elastic against her skin, and Christian can’t help but grin wide as Alexis gasps. “If you’re not enjoying yourself? You can say “keep going.” You can free your wrists. You can take your eyes off mine. If it’s not fun, if you do any of those things, I’ll stop.”

“But not if I tell you to…” Christian shakes his head down at her, and Alexis does a wonderful job of tracking the movement, fixing her gaze on him the entire time.

“Nope. Sorry, petal, you’re just not as imposing and scary as you think you are, hate to break it to you.” Christian traces silly circles on her stomach with his fingertips, the featherlight touch sending electric longing through her nerves. Alexis’s hips buck beneath his, aching for a touch she can’t ask for, a touch that will only be given if he says so, and she whines at the thought.

“You’re a bastard, fuck off.” Her words are harsh, but her voice is honeyed and docile. Looking down at the rosy flush of her cheeks and the way her half-lidded eyes stay obediently trained on him, Christian smiles and thinks he could get used to being so lovingly mean to his girl.

“Yeah… no. I don’t think I will.” Her boy’s smile is charming and captivatingly predatory, and Alexis fleetingly thinks that feeling like prey shouldn’t feel so safe before she can’t think much of anything. Christian’s hand massaging and rubbing through the soaked fabric of her underwear is overwhelmingly distracting, and his other hand around her wrists, not the strength per se but the confidence of his grip, is the only thing keeping her from looking away. So when his fingers push aside ruined cloth and slide through the slick mess he’s made of her, Alexis can see all too clearly how pleased and smug he is, taking her apart with confident hands.

“I’ll stay right where I am, thank you. Wouldn’t want to miss a sight like this.” Not taking his eyes off of hers and gliding between her lips to rub firm, mean circles on her clit, Christian looms attentively over Alexis as she gasps and writhes and bucks into his touch. “What are you thinking in that pretty head, petal?”

“I’m thinkin’-“ A finger pushes inside her with noisy, embarrassing ease, and the shifter hums encouragingly as she arches off the bed and stumbles over her thoughts. “- fuck , that I want you to stop?” Quicker than she can move, Christian’s touch softens, fire hot cooling to warm like forgotten sunshine. His hands don’t pull away, but he does pause, his thumb stroking gently against her pulse as he dips his head closer to hers.

“Are you asking or telling?” Christian murmurs, his eyelashes brushing against hers like butterfly kisses, his breath sweet against her lips. He is so sweet and so him and so unafraid, and Alexis feels the odd urge to cry. She doesn't breathe, she doesn’t blink, she doesn’t remember the last time in her long life she’s felt so safe. Stray tears escape down the side of her face, and Christian coos gently, moving to let go of her, when she finds her resolve.

“I’m ordering you to stop.” Her voice, her hands, her leg that stubbornly hitches itself around his waist are quivering, but the eyes locked on his are the tempered steel that he knows and loves, that pierced him right to his singing core the moment he saw them. They flutter closed for just a moment when he leans down to kiss her, but when he holds himself above her, Alexis’s gaze and trust are unwavering, even when Christian’s loving smile sharpens into a teasing smirk.

“Too bad.” Another finger teases itself alongside the other, and the werewolf chuckles as she gasps at the stretch. “The world doesn’t bend to your bossy, vampire whims, princess. You can stomp around and huff all you want out there, but in here? You do what I want. Can you guess what that is?” As Christian speaks, he twists and curls his fingers in and out of his pretty girl’s body, watching the way her thighs tense and shake and delighting in the way her hips chase the friction of his palm. Alexis whines behind clenched teeth and trembling lips, fruitlessly attempting to respond, when he touches something inside of her that makes her moan high and sweet and melodic, like they’re bridging and he can hear her spellsong right from its source. Thrusting against that spot again propels her half off the bed in rapture, and there is something intoxicating about the way her impossibly strong, flawless body gives in and relinquishes control to him.

“I want you to not pretend with me.” Christian presses his thumb against Alexis’s clit and bares his teeth in animalistic satisfaction as his girl barely holds back her scream, her fangs biting down onto kiss-swollen lips and her hips meeting his every thrust. “You can pretend with everyone else that you’re the mean, scary Solaire hellion, but I know there’s more to you, don’t I, petal?” His only answer is her sharp, staccato whimpers, her legs tightening around his body, and her eyes clouding over in pleasure like the rare, gorgeous Dahlia thunderstorm, new words in her language for him to uncover and translate. Alexis laid out underneath him is a long-forgotten aria, but Christian has studied her long enough to make her sing it for him.

“I know you’d never hurt me; I know you’d never think of it. No, you wouldn’t hurt a fly now, let alone me. How could you when you can’t make me do what you say, when I can hold you down and make you obey instead?” Alexis tightens around him inside her, her body wound taut as piano wire, and Christian gently presses his forehead to hers to get the best view of her eyes widening and darkening in crescendoing pleasure. “I know you’ll do exactly what I want, and I want you to come. You’ve played the game so well, and now you get a prize, so be a good girl, and come for me, petal.”

Obediently, beautifully, Alexis does as she’s told, only breaking eye contact to bury her face in Christian’s shoulder and moan as his hand works her through the high. His other lets go of her wrists to tangle his fingers with hers, and she holds onto him for dear life, trembling from pleasure and sensitivity and the tears he can feel against his collar. Only once he winds her down, straightening her underwear and raining soft kisses on tangled hair, does he feel her relax and breathe, muttering a muffled something against his skin.

“What did you say? What do you need?” Alexis turns to the side so Christian can see one dark eyebrow arched tauntingly at him.

“Really, cher ? ‘Be a good girl’?” The werewolf lets out a silly snort before finally rolling over onto his back onto the bed next to her.

“Kinkshamed right here in my own home and bed, I don’t have to take this.” Christian rears up, intending to get some water for him and his vampire when she tugs gently at their still clasped hands.

“Stay… please. Don’t go?” Alexis doesn’t shy away from his gaze, her eyes meeting his in a hesitant, tentative request that Christian could easily deny but would rather die than do so.

“Don’t worry, Alexis,” he says, laying back down next to her and opening his arms so she can burrow herself into the warmth of his chest and embrace. “You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried. I’m not going anywhere.”

The ending I almost wrote until aftercare won out over snark:

Only once he winds her down, straightening her underwear and raining soft kisses on tangled hair, does he feel her relax and breathe again. “So… ‘good girl’ really does it for you, huh, princess?” Sharp fingernails tickle the flesh of his palm, and Christian laughs, his ribs hurting from holding himself up for so long but not caring when he can hear and feel Alexis’s blissed-out giggling against his skin.

Taglist:

@horrorscoupes my saving grace and beta reader

@themonotonysyndrome my life-ruining inspiration I adore you

@teasandcardigans who said this wasn't a robbery but I'm playing it safe

@friendlyfaded the king of Redacted rarepairs

#redactedasmr #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedaudio #redacted #redactedverse #redacted fanfiction #redacted fanfic #redacted alexis #redacted christian #busybee writes

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twinkleallnight · 4 years ago

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A Twisted Tale

Chapter 2

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Word count: 2334

Characters: Liam, Drake, Riley, Olivia.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: mention of death.

A/N: I m We are participating in @wackydrabbles prompt: "That makes my {body part} tingle." that appears in bold.

Catch up here

An AU of The Royal Romance paving it's way through mixed emotions of wants, needs and desires, of revenge and regrets, of trust, faith and hope.

A joint venture brought to you with love by @twinkleallnight and @annekebbphotography

Liam’s POV

Riley looks at me with concern and all I can do is shake my head, I didn’t want to get into it right now. All I wanted to do was talk to Olivia and she didn’t even give me a chance to say anything, just assumed she knew what I was doing.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask as we walk towards the jet.

Riley beams at me, I have never seen blue eyes sparkle like that. “More than ready. I am so excited.” She giggles as she walks towards the steps. I let her go first and damn, she is making it hard for me. She’s wearing a tight blue jean with a pink flowing shirt, but her ass is on display as she climbs the steps of the jet. I know it’s wrong, I am in love with someone else, but damn she’s beautiful and can I mention that she is making my pants pretty uncomfortable.

I shake my head to get the thoughts out of my mind, I need to focus. All I need is to get back to Cordonia and see Olivia. Then all of this will be over and I will be back to normal. Riley will only be working for me and probably become my friend.

The flight back to Cordonia is spent with me explaining to Riley how things work in Cordonia. I tell her about the ins and outs of the royal council and how to address each of the court members. She impressed me with knowing most of the things I was teaching her. I believe that she will do well in the Palace. She will obviously be my right hand, and she will have to attend functions and meetings with me, until I finally find my Queen. No wait, scratch that. Until I get married to my Queen. I just need her to fall in love with me.

The pilot lets us know that we will be landing. “Look out of the window.” I motion to the window next to Riley and I can’t help admire the happiness and excitement on her face.

“Wow, It’s really something else.” She says, a little too excited.

*****************

After getting checked by security and getting the all clear, Riley and I make our way to the palace. Seeing the excitement in Riley’s eyes makes me see the place and the country in a different light. I have been here all my life and love my country, but I think I might have taken it for granted.

“Is this where I will be staying?” She points to the palace and I can’t help but smile.

“Yes, you will have your own room. Normally we will put you in the guest rooms, but I want you close to my wing. You will not be alone. My best friend, Drake Walker also stays in the wing you will be staying in.” I nod to Bastien as he pulls up in front of the palace.

“I can’t wait to start work. It might be weird, but I want to learn as much as possible.”

Bastien opens my door before I could say anything else. As I get out I see Olivia coming down the front step of the Palace. This is even more bad timing.

Olivia crosses the distance between us in a few swift steps. She curtsies in front of me dramatically, "Welcome back home, your majesty." I can feel the bite in her tone.

"It's good to be back Duchess." I smirk, as I take her hand and kiss the back of it. My eyes never leave hers. That is until she breaks my gaze and looks over my shoulder. I turn around to see that Riley has just stepped out of the car.

"Since when did you start bringing your dinner home?" I don't know if it's her regular snarky comment or is she jealous.

"Since it's too good to leave behind!" I say with a grin on my face. Lets see how far this can go.

She sneers at me and almost looks like she is going to attack me when Bastien interferes. "Can we take this inside, Duchess."

Olivia glares at Bastien. She turns around and storms back inside without saying anything.

I turn towards Riley. She is a bit flabbergasted at what just happened. "That's Duchess Olivia Nevrakis of Lythikos for you." I offer her my arm. "Shall I show you to your room." She links her arm with mine and I can't help but smile at the jolt of electricity I feel when she touches me. Her cheeks turn a soft pink when her hand touches my arm.

As I am walking her in, I pass through the corridors and see Olivia sneaking into my study. I am a little nervous now thinking of what lies ahead. Upsetting the woman I love is not my style.

I try to be quick with Riley hoping she doesn't catch the hints of my nervousness.

"Please make yourself at home. Bastien here can help you if you need anything. I have some pending office work to complete. We can start with your job profile tomorrow."

Having said that, I quickly turn on my heels and stride down to my study. I enter and see Olivia standing with a wine glass. Her devilish smile welcomes me in. "Dinner was not to your taste? You left the party so soon?"

"I have my dinner preparing for me. I plan to make it breakfast and lunch as well. Maybe a reading snack in the library could work for me." I know I am digging my own grave. But I love bickering with her.

"Cut it out Liam." She snarls at me. "We both know your appetite well."

"Then don't make assumptions, when you do not know the whole story." I walk over to my desk and take a seat. "Now, we have matters to discuss. Please take a seat" I motion to the seat in front of my desk.

With a huff and a puff, Olivia gives in and sits in the chair across my table. I can still feel her restlessness. When she cannot contain it anymore she finally asks. "Who is she?"

I smirk as I lean back into my chair resting my hands behind my back. "She is my new personal assistant. We will be working closely together." I throw it out there. I need a sign that this is affecting her.

"Okay. Just a personal assistant." She reverberates. She fans it out, sipping her wine. As the warm liquid passes down her throat she relaxes. "What did you want to discuss?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing. Also I would like you to take Riley shopping. She would need appropriate clothes to wear to the office."

Not that I mind the clothes she's wearing, but selfishly I don't want the other men to look at her like that.

"If you are forgetting, I am a Duchess. Not staff at your palace. Why would I spend my precious time on a girl you randomly picked up from the streets of America. I give a damn at how she dresses. That's her problem if she doesn't have the basic training or dressing sense."

She then adds. "Ask Drake to do that. He knows better how to deal with Street hawkers, from where he comes."

"She is not just some random girl. I am asking you, because I want you to give her a chance. She's best qualified for this job. If you don't want to do it, I will do it myself. I don't mind spending time with her."

"For god's sake Liam! What's wrong with you? You are a king, not a teenage boy following a girl, holding her bags. You won't go shopping with her." She orders with authority. She loves me. She won't say it but she does. She tries to show she owns me. That makes my heart tingle. How can I resist her? I don't want to. I want to hold her tight at this moment and tell her how much I love her and I will do as she demands. But I resist the urge and continue defending my case.

"It is because I am the king that I can do this. I asked you and you said no, so now I will take her. Isn't that what you wanted. To have someone else take her?" I raise my brow at Olivia. I will get her to love me or at least admit that she loves me.

" I want someone else to take her because I want you to be with me at Lythikos. I have some things to discuss for the duchy."

It is not easy to bend her. She has her ways. She again found a reason to ignore my advances.

" Okay. I will come with you." I get up and move across the table. I take her hand in my hand. Her skin is soft against my touch. " If you promise that we will have dinner after work."

Her green eyes pierce at me.

"Fine." She says and slips out her hand to stand straight. "See you in an hour. You can accompany me on the drive to Lythikos."

She walks down to the door and turns before leaving. " I will ask Drake to help your damsel in distress"

"NO..." I stop and take a deep breath. "Fine, ask Drake to go with her."

***********

Olivia's POV

I walk out of Liam's study with a staid mind. This was not how I had expected things to progress. I have already started hating this American girl. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and start walking to the stables in search of Drake. He spots me first.

"Hey red hood!" He calls out from the booth where he is tending a horse.

"Hi Wolfie." I walk over to him.

"What's up?"

"Job for you." I wait to gain his full attention.

" At your service madam. Name it." He washes his hands and carelessly rubs them over his apron. He discards the apron to show off his chiselled chest. He has a habit of being ruthless about how his supermodel body has an effect on anyone around him. He pulls in a white cotton shirt but doesn't bother buttoning it up, leaving his rippled abdomen open for view. Had he not been a commoner, I would have let my fingers roam over his rugged body. I'm lost in drooling over his killer looks when, as if he has read my mind, he speaks.

"You were 25 inches up."

I turn pink on that comment and take my eyes off from his abs, 25inches up, to his brown eyes. I clear my throat.

"Liam has got some American girl with him. Says she is going to be his personal assistant and want you to take her shopping for her formal wear."

"And why would he send the message through none other than the Duchess?"

"Because I suggested it. He wanted me to do that, but I have some work at the duchy, and I am taking Liam along. That leaves only you available."

" So, you are trying to whisk away the king from the girl."

"No, I am not." I say firmly.

Drake ignores my comment and continues," But if she is going to be his personal assistant, you may have to up your game."

"There is no game being played here. Just do the damn shopping with her." My voice raises in frustration.

"Okay, okay. Will do it."

" Bastein will take you to her. See ya later." Before he can throw more questions, I spin and walk away.

After an hour, I am travelling alone in my car. Liam excused himself for some security check reasons, saying he will be there in another hour. I know he is taking his time luring his new found fascination in that girl. I feel my blood boiling at the thought of them together. I make a few necessary calls and wait for the road to end.

Seething in the same anger I stomp through the Chateau to my room. When I am inside I find aunt Lucretia waiting there for me.

She welcomes me with her crooked smile. "So how is my favourite niece doing?"

"Your only niece." I throw my purse callously on the bed and sprawl on it. I am staring at the ceiling trying to assess the situation.

She sits at the edge of the bed and moves her fingers lovingly through my loose hair.

"What is troubling you my darling?"

"I think I stretched it a bit too long."

"Stretched what?"

"Ignoring Liam's feelings. Now he seems to have got some seductress from his UN conference and is following her like a puppy all around."

"Oh dear, these girls come and go in the lives of nobles. Let him loiter around. He is a king and when it comes to choosing a queen, he will not look for some common girl. He will only have his eyes for you."

"I don't want to take this lightly." I prop up on the bed. "He is coming to Lythikos. He insisted on a dinner date with me. I am going for it."

"I think you are overreacting."

" Aunt Lucretia, I had that guy entwined around my little finger all these years. And today he got the guts to get some commoner and throw her into my face? I am no longer leaving it for chance. I am going to make him bend on his knees, and when he does that, I am going to gladly accept it."

I get back on my toes and proudly announce. "Once I become the queen of Cordonia, I will take the reins in my hands. The Nevrakis blood will rule Cordonia. The dream my parents had, will come true. And so will my revenge for their death!"

Tags: @ao719 @anjanettexcordonia @bascmve01 @bebepac @charlotteg234 @choicesficwriterscreations @cordonia-gothqueen @drakewalker04 @eadanga @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @krsnlove @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @idontknowwhysblog @indiacater @jessiembruno @jovialyouthmusic @jaxsmutsuo @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @khoicesbyk @shewillreadyou @lisha1valecha @lovablegranny @mrswalkers-blog @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @no-one-u-know @ntoraplayschoices @princessleac1 @ritachacha @secretaryunpaid @sirbeepsalot @speedyoperarascalparty @shanzay44 @texaskitten30 @txemrn @queenrileyrose @briefdreamlanddream @sfb123 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @aestheticartsx @yourmajesty09 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @drakewalkerfantasy @els31 @rainbowsinthestorm @darley1101 @the-soot-sprite @ladyangel70 @rafasgirl23415 @anotherbeingsworld @callmeellabella @msjr0119 @walker7519 @ofpixelsandscribbles @cocomaxley @lodberg @jared2612 @gnatbrain @cmestrella @queenjilian @iaminlovewithtrr @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

#pixelberry #playchoices #the royal romance #trr fandom #trr #twinkleallnight #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #king liam

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reginarubie · 3 years ago

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Person: *says their opinion*

Person: *is death-wished, disrespected or insulted because of it without any reason for it*

Me: *my wolfy senses are tingling*

*Me with them later on knowing they can perfectly defend themselves but willing to go around and defend them too* (it’s called solidarity and I love it): they’re my precious beans, go sciacquati la bocca before speaking to me or anyone else! (“Go cleanse your mouth”)

Notice; I chose the wolf because it’s the national Italian animal 😂😂😂😂

@sansaissteel don’t worry, sweetie, I’ve got your back ❤️ you are an amazing person; sometimes people just cannot get out of their way and say hurtful things.

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danetobelieve · 4 years ago

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Escape Doom || Layla and Winston

When: 28/09/2020 Who: @laylacooke & @danetobelieve Where: Escape Doom Summary: Winston and Layla try to have some fun. They don’t succeed. Warnings: gore content warning

It had been a good two months since she had spent time with Winston, and for that, Layla felt bad. But today was their day. She was going to catch up and find out what had been going on in their life and maybe get the scoop on them and Rio. And what better way to bond than at an escape room aptly named Escape Doom. It was one adventure she had yet to experience and as she waited outside for Winston to arrive, she couldn’t help but google the place on her phone to see what it was all about. The reviews online had been mixed, but mostly on the good side, and it was an escape room. It’s not like they would be trapped forever, and the carnival had left town several nights ago, so she knew for a fact, it had nothing to do with that creepy place. Picking up on their scent, the teenage werewolf put her phone away and waited for them to arrive.

Winston was feeling cautiously optimistic, they weren’t sure if things were really going to keep running this smoothly. This was White Crest after all. To be perfectly honest it was pretty rare that anything really ran smoothly for more then a week here. But Winston was not one to complain about a good thing. As they arrived at Escape Doom, Winston had to admit that they weren’t sure if this place was the right thing for them, but they were all about trying new things and hopefully Layla would enjoy it too. Waving, they smiled as they strode over. “This place looks … great,” they raised their eyebrows wondering why they had suggested this place and not somewhere that was slightly less ominous. “Are you doing okay?” Winston asked as they made their way into the building.

Layla waved as she saw Winston get closer. Escape rooms had been something she had wanted to try before, but had never got the chance. White Crest probably hadn’t been the ideal spot to try such an intense game, but then again, she couldn’t keep living her life in fear or regret. Giving the building a once over at Winston’s comment, she laughed, “It’s got character. I’ll give it that much. And nothing could be as bad as that nightmarish carnival that was just here, right?” She followed them inside, “I’m doing, okay.” She didn’t feel like mentioning she had been arrested. Of course this was a small town, so there was a good chance Winston already knew. “What about you? How are things with Rio?” She looked back to them with a smile.

Working in the WCPD didn’t mean that Winston knew everything or even anything about who had been arrested or not, so far they hadn’t heard of any run ins that Layla had had with the law. “Of course not, the fact that this is a staple part of White Crest isn’t terrifying either, nor is the fact that this place quite literally has Doom in the title.” Winston was doing their best to be glib, whether or not that was really the most sensible thing for them to be doing wasn’t something that they were particularly considering. “Rio?” Winston shrugged and smiled, “They’re good, we’re taking things real slow, but it’s good.” There was no rush. Winston stepped inside of the building and ordered them two tickets. “What sort of game do you want to play today?” the guy behind the counter asked curiously. “Shit, I hadn’t thought, you got a preference Layla?”

Despite the fact that they were probably walking into another one of White Crest’s traps, Layla was going to try and be optimistic about the whole situation, “Slow is good. I’m glad to hear things are going well for the both of you. I suggested to Rio a while back about the possibility of a double date with you, him, Frankie, and me. I mean if you’re up for it.” She smiled. Moving to the counter, she stopped just behind Winston and looked up at the listed games on the wall. There were quite a few to choose from, “Uh, maybe 30’s Detective or Zombie Apocalypse? What level of difficulty were you thinking?” She had never done this before, so it was any guess as to how this day was going to go. She was just glad Winston would be by her side.

“Yeah, that would be really cute.” Winston and Frankie had talked a few times and it had always been fun, they would love to get to know all of them better and a double date wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “We’ll have to try and arrange something.” Winston wasn’t sure what they could do, but there was always time in White Crest. Sometimes you really had to face the music and sometimes you just had to do something to calm down and chill out. “Uh,” honestly Winston hadn’t considered difficulty, “I say lets do Zombie Apocalypse but lets do like a medium, because I really don’t know if I have the brain power to do anything above that.” Winston slipped the guy behind the booth some notes and he ushered them down a corridor and towards the escape room, giving a clearly well practiced speech. “Zombie Apocalypse escape rooms are … inventive,” Winston whispered to Layla.

A smile came over Layla’s face at the idea of them all getting together. Double dates weren’t much, but it was a semblance that she was really starting to settle down and call White Crest home. “Perfect, because I don’t know if I have the actual brain cells to figure this out.” She leaned in towards Winston, “That they are. And this place surely has an exit door, if it gets to be too hard right?” There had to be a way out. The teenager wasn’t about to admit that she may or may not have been nervous, but as long as they could leave if they wanted to, she would be good, “So do you know anything about these places? I know you have to find clues to unlock doors and things right? But we both know this is one messed up town and nothing is ever as simple as it seems.” Would there, in fact, be real zombies lurking in the rooms? They were about to find out.

“Hopefully the two of us will be able to get enough brain cells to rub together, I’m not super super hopeful but I think we’ve got this.” Winston was of course joking. Layla was many things but stupid was not chief among them. “I feel like if anything goes wrong then we will be able to find a way out.” It might require them to blow some stuff up but Winston wasn’t really sure that they cared anymore. “They’re basically just meant to be a giant riddle I think?” Winston replied, “Like isn’t the point that there are a load of themed puzzles and stuff that you have to work through so that you can get to the end and escape the room?” Winston stepped inside of the room, which had bars across the room so that they could only get a third of the way across the room. There was a couple of boxes that looked like they should hold ammo and Winston was suddenly concerned that there might be something zombie like in here. “Although I’m starting to wish that we’d picked the 30s detective thing instead of the zombies, now that you make that point.”

“You know, I think we just might. But I can’t guarantee that claws won’t come out if something scares me. I’m still learning how to control that part of myself.” Was this really a good idea, now that she had thought about it? Layla was thinking as a human, when she committed to joining Winston, not as a werewolf. Evil!Layla, if you wanted to call her that, had given her normal counterpart a little more control over her abilities, but the teenager could still be skittish. After all, look at all the bullshit that had happened within the few months she had been there, “Sounds about right, yeah. I know they had them back in Nashville, but not as intense. I’m making an assumption, by the way. I never actually made it inside one.” She stuck closely to Winston as they entered the room together, “My spidey senses may or may not be tingling right now. Is it too late to choose that 30s detective thing?” She looked to Winston with an uneasy smile. What were they getting themselves into?

“Hey, if you need to go a little bit … wolfy because something’s freaked you out then I won’t stop you.” Winston hadn’t told Layla everything about themselves yet. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust her or anything it was more that with Miriam involved they didn’t want her finding out about them being a magician and so keeping it from as many people as possible was the safest way to do that. “I mean, like I said this is my first time too, but it would make sense that there would be something fucked up if it was White Crest.” The usual anxious pit in Winston’s stomach was beginning to settle in and Winston wasn’t sure that they were all that keen to see where this really went. But they were already here and they were pretty sure that they had just heard the door lock behind them. “I think it might be too late yeah…” Winston looked at her and then at the room. There were doors on either side that looked remarkably flimsy. The sound of a bell rang through the room. “So does that mean that the game’s beg-” Winston’s sentence was cut off as a fist punched through one of the doors and a mottled zombie-fied hand reached through, “start looking for a way through these prison door things.” Winston scrambled over to one of the boxes and pried the lid off, looking for a key or anything.

Wolfy. Considering going wolfy seemed to be on the fritz, Layla wasn’t too sure that either one of them should rely on her innate animal. But the circumstances with Miles had been different. He was a werewolf trying to attack her to bring out her inner wolf; a plan that hadn’t settled too well considering it took her back to the night she was bitten. But this was different. As long as werewolves didn’t pop out somewhere and yell ‘boo!’ she would hopefully be good to at least swat at a few things with her claws, if they were to make an appearance, “Wolfy. Got it.” With hesitation growing inside of her, she was just about to turn around and walk out, when she heard the click of the door. Even Winston couldn’t get out their sentence in time, which instantly filled Layla’s stomach with dread. But it was the fist coming through the door that solidified her regret, and with Winston’s instruction, she immediately began scanning the room for anything that would help them move on, as more fists and hands seemed to start coming through the door. “Winston, I think this was a bad idea.” No reason to worry yet. No reason to let Miss Wolfy out. Nope. Just stay calm, Layla. Stay calm.

“I’m not saying that you should or even that you have to, just do you.” Winston didn’t think that they were really the person who should be coaching anyone on their newly found or developed supernatural abilities. They were barely in control of their magic at the best of times and although they were getting more and more confident with it as time went on there was still a lot for them to learn. “You think this was a bad idea?” Winston wished that sarcasm wasn’t such an innate defense mechanism at times like this, “Of course it was a bad idea, there appear to be literal zombies punching through the door in an attempt to eat us and presumably our brains.” Winston wanted to tell the people who had made Escape Doom that this wasn’t fun and it also wasn’t accurate, but somehow writing a strongly worded yelp review at a time like this wasn’t something that Winston thought was particularly a priority. Scrambling over to the boxes of ammo, Winston began pulling them open. Unfortunately they weren’t filled with anything really. There was air but that was about it really. Swallowing, Winston looked around before pushing over a chair in their hurry to find literally anyway out of this, they spotted a key and grabbed it, throwing it to Layla who was by the door to the next part of the room as the door splintered open. “Try that!”

Layla side-eyed Winston as the sarcasm came off strong, but continued to hunt for anything that could free them from a room that would soon be full of zombies, “First, sarcasm isn’t going to get us out of here, and second, what the hell do you mean literal zombies?!” Were zombies actually a real thing here? She hadn’t seen one. At least she didn’t think she had. No one looked like the hands that were grabbing at her from the otherside of the door. But thank the moon, Winston had found some sort of key! Catching it, she pushed it into the lock and twisted, hearing the door unlock, and just in time too, as she felt the brush of zombie fleshing against her body, “It works!!!! Come on!!!!” Pushing the door open, she ran inside the next room, “Winston hurry!!!!!”

“It’s a defense mechanism, like humour in awkward situations, except when it’s a life threatening situation I get sarcastic and make very bad jokes.” Winston was already dashing towards the door as ‘zombies’ burst through into the escape room. “Zombies are real, yes, but they’re not zombies like in the walking dead, it’s complicated.” Suddenly the establishment's name of Escape Doom had a brand new meaning to it and Winston found themselves determined not to get caught between a proverbial rock and a hard place. Scarpering into the next room, Winston pushed against the jail door as zombies poured into the room. “Layla, can you help … me…. With this.” They grunted with exertion as they struggled to get the door to close with the veritable tidal wave of zombies pushing against them.

She was halfway paying attention to them carrying on, just more so concerned with their well being of making it past the room filled with zombies. Layla did, however, catch the bit about zombies being real, but different? She would ask for an explanation later, but right now her attention was pulled to Winston’s request of getting the door closed. With her wolf strength, she forced back the horde with the heavy door and managed to get it secured just in time before they were the ones greeting guests when they entered one of Escape Doom’s many fucked up scenarios, “What do you mean real and not like the Walking Dead?” She was bent over trying to catch her breath, but she had let her head twist just enough in their direction to listen to the explanation that she was hoping they would give.

Winston was far from sure as to how they were going to really explain this to Layla. They were really starting to resent having to explain supernatural shit to everyone. It wasn’t exactly their job and they were pretty much as new to this as everyone else was. But somehow, Layla managed to shut the door and Winston was left panting for breath on the floor. Gulping down air, they wiped sweat from their brow. The hordes of zombies that had filled the room that they’d been previously held in were swarming the bars and grabbing at Layla and Winston. Their heart fluttered with fear and anxiety crept into their stomach as they tried to work out a way out of here, but so far they had nothing. “I mean, like, you know in the walking dead they look like shambling corpses that grind and gnash their teeth and try and eat your brains, well in real life they don’t look like that, they do eat brains but not just human brains I don’t think? I don’t really know, I’m not an expert but these … they’re something else.” Winston wasn’t sure what, and they weren’t sure that they wanted to know either. “We need to try and find a way out before they find a way through.”

Layla listened as Winston explained everything. This town really was something else, and now, the redhead had wondered if she had ever come across any of these so-called zombies. That’d be a mystery left for another day. Right now, they had the hordes of these scary fuckers to worry about. Straightening back up, she looked around the new room. The sounds of grunting and growling and hands grabbing and reaching forced Layla to take a few steps further into the room. The name of the game was escape, and she was already scanning the area, “You know, I would say maybe these are actors, but I don’t think that’s a very accurate description, so I’m just going to start looking for the next way out.” As she walked around the room, she noticed there wasn’t a door, except the one they had come through already, “I don’t want to panic you, Winston, but, um...there’s not a door. At least not one that I can see. Except that one.” She pointed back to the door they had both just successfully shut.

Winston heard something plop against the floor and saw a section of skin peeled off of one of the things on the other side of the bars and dripped onto the floor. “I don’t think that they’re actors, unless that is some of the most convincing stage makeup that I have ever seen.” Winston was sure that it wasn’t one of the most convincing pieces of stage makeup that they had ever seen. In White Crest -- so much of the time -- the most convincing answer was so often the most supernatural. Looking around the room, Winston’s brain ticked slowly, it was almost as if they could feel the cogs in their brain churning as they tried to work out the answer. “Ok, there’s no door but this is definitely an escape room. I know that it would be pretty White Crest to make something that there is literally no escape from but that doesn’t feel like this place's MO. If there is no traditional door then there has to be a different way out.” Looking up and around them, Winston chewed on their lip before spotting a small vent in the ceiling. “You see that? Do you think that could be our way out?”

The young werewolf searched the area, but her eyes caught the same thing she was pretty sure Winston was seeing; skin falling off and landing with a splat on the floor. Layla almost wanted to gag, but was able to refrain. “You’re right, I don’t think they’re actors either, now that you mention it.” She quickly turned around, the smell of decaying flesh starting to get to her wolf senses now that she was actually letting it in. Her eyes scanned the area, until Winston told her to direct her attention towards the ceiling. Great. So not only did they have real life zombies trying to eat them, now they would have to play mission impossible and climb through a ceiling vent, “I don’t think it is. I know it is.” She glanced back to the creatures that seemed to be multiplying and pressing harder on the bars, “Need a boost?” She turned her sights back to Winston.

Gulping, Winston had to admit that they weren’t thrilled at the prospect of having to go through a terrifying vent but then again when wasn’t Winston terrified nowadays? They were sure that the ‘zombies’ were going to break through and eat them at any moment and if they did then Winston wouldn’t be able to do anything other then die. “Yes, I definitely need a boost.” Winston was ready to do whatever it took to get out of here alive and somehow they thought that might well be the point of this whole thing. As Layla boosted them up towards the vent they clawed the grate off of it and hauled themselves up awkwardly. Thank God Layla had given them a hand with this because they did not have the upper body strength to do it on their own. Turning awkwardly in the cramped space, they dangled their hands for Layla. “Come on,” they said as they spotted the zombies clawing through the bars and starting to make their way through.

What had the two of them gotten into? Layla had just wanted to spend a fun day out with her friend and here they were facing zombies?! With all of her strength, she pushed Winston up into the vent. But not at the expense of having the walking dead on her heels. Her heart had been racing the entire time, but this had been the first time she had genuinely felt like she could get hurt, and as she jumped up and reached for Winston’s hands, the teenager felt one of the creatures grab onto her leg, “Winston!!!” Kicking with all her might while trying to pull herself up, she could feel the shift of the werewolf starting to come on. Tears flooded her eyes as her teeth began to change into fangs, “Hurry!!! I’m starting to shift!!!” If her claws came out, it was over. She would surely lose their grip and be a McZombie Meal minus the fries and drink.

Winston was panicking. Of course this shit was happening. It only ever happened whenever they just wanted to have a nice day out. Hauling her up with all of their strength, Winston knew that this was life or death and honestly in the last month or so they had lost more then enough to not have to keep dealing with this bullshit. Roland had died and they weren’t going to let Layla be a victim too. “Ughhhghhh” they grunted a relatively unintelligible noise and pulled with all their might, managing to haul Layla up into the vent and panting from the effort. “Fuck this shit man,” Winston panted as they lay on their back gasping for air and wiping sweat from their brow, “why does this always happen? I swear to god I’m giving these motherfuckers like a 0 on yelp or something. This is the worst.”

Trying to assist them all she could, Layla used what strength her body would allow to get up into the air vent. Today wasn’t going to be the day she died at the hands of some ugly ass zombies trying to make her lunch. And when she was laying right next to Winston, panting and trying to calm her racing heart, she knew she was officially ready to go home. Looking over at them, she winced as her teeth shifted back to normal, “I don’t know, but can we go? I don’t like this place. Anything that scares me enough to shift is bad news.” She remained on her back. The sounds and smells of the animated corpses below left her cringing, “There’s gotta be an emergency exit somewhere.” Layla slowly pushed herself up to a seated position, “And I’ll join you on that 0. This place fucking sucks.”

Nodding, Winston sighed. “Of course we can get going, I don’t think that I want to spend anymore time in here then I have to.” It was weird. Winston had seen a million and one movies where the protagonist climbs and clambers through a vent but actually doing it in real time was not what they had expected and by the time that Winston was out they were covered in sweat. There was an envelope waiting for them from Escape Doom as they pulled themselves out into the dirt outside the back of the Escape Doom building, it said something about congratulations on finishing your first escape room. Which did not make Winston feel better. “I need to shower and probably like drink a bottle of something that will make me forget this.”

Layla followed Winston out and to the end of the air vent, where she also laid eyes on the envelope. Her reaction to the message? A strong eye roll. She had always wanted to try an escape room, but had never expected anything like this, “I would ask if I could join you, but I’m only 19, so…” She dusted herself off and looked back towards where they had just come. She could still hear groaning coming from the hollow vent, “Hey, uh, you don’t think they’ll get out do you?” Her concern from the community was great, considering they had just escaped death themselves. But her fears were calmed when she heard the groaning fade out and eventually disappear completely. She wasn’t sure how it had been done, but the living dead were gone. Looking to Winston, she sighed with relief, “They’re gone.” Moving forward, she looked towards her friend, “Next time, maybe we should just go see a movie.”

#p: layla #wickedswriting #escape doom #chatzy #chatzy para #para

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stereksecretsanta · 5 years ago

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Merry Christmas, @dearericbittle!

Merry Christmas and Happy whatever Holiday you may celebrate! Hugs!

Read on AO3

*****

Oh Shit!

Oh Shit. Stiles takes a moment to revel in the fact that this is his oh shit moment. Not, oh shit, a dead body in the woods. Not, oh shit, werewolves. Not, oh, shit, Derek wants me to cut off his arm. Not, oh shit, kanimas, or hunters, or any other of bevy of supernatural fuckery. No, Stiles’ oh shit moment is walking past an alleyway and having his Derek Hale spidey tingle go off. His oh shit moment is seeing Derek Freaking Hale crouched in an alley trying to coax a completely demonic looking cat with a massive gash across it’s forehead out from behind a dumpster. Stiles assumes so that Derek can help getting Demon!cat treated.

Stiles oh shit moment is oh shit, I’m in love with this asshole.

Stiles would like to think that he is fairly self-aware but this knocks the wind right out of him. His stomach does a full loop-the-loop and his heart does a quadruple staccato for long enough that Derek looks up from his save the cat mission to meet Stiles’ eyes.

Derek’s eyes widen in apparent surprise before a grin spreads across his face. This does not help Stiles’ heartbeat situation, especially when paired with his recent oh shit revelation. The warm welcome fades on Derek’s features, replaced with a look of concern. Derek reaches out his arm as if to steady Stiles, though the only stumbling that is going on right now is emotional. Stiles rallies himself, before Derek can touch him - who knows how his traitorous body would react to that!

He gesticulates just a little too wildly with his hands, and bumbles further into the alley a little too dramatically before managing to get some words out of his mouth.

“Whatcha doin’, Sourwolf? You gonna put that poor cat out it’s misery with your teeth?”

Stiles cringes. It’s been years since any “rip your throat out with my teeth” jokes have really been appropriate or funny.

Derek has yet to speak any words but his eyebrows scrunch together in question.

Stiles takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

“Nevermind, Sourwolf. Weird kind of day. You ever learn something that kind of shifts your whole world view? Did you know that squirrels are behind the majority of power outages in United States, Derek? Because, let me tell you, I did not.”

Derek shakes his head with what Stiles would define as fond eyebrows and proceeds to ignore everything that has come out Stiles’ mouth since “Whatcha doing, Sourwolf?”

“I tracked this little critter from near that bakery over on Main St. She’s bleeding and smells afraid. I’m having trouble getting her to trust me.” Derek’s voice stays soft and even while hes’s talking with Stiles. He’s crouched near the ground again and while his eyes are locked on Stiles’, his hand is reaching out towards the injured cat with feigned nonchalance.

Mirroring Derek’s tone of voice, Stiles asks, “What were you doing at the bakery?”

“Picking up cupcakes for Laura’s birthday dinner tonight.” He pauses, “You didn’t forget about that did you?”

Yes, yes Stiles had forgotten about that. In his defense, he’s been working nights the last week and days of the week are a nebulous thing when one is working the night shift.

Derek interprets his pause accurately. “Don’t worry about it. If you’re back on days, come over around 6 and we’ll feed you. Don’t worry about a present.”

Stiles is about to respond when he sees that cat has finally made her way to Derek’s outstretched hand and has deigned to be picked up.

Stiles thought that he’d gotten the whole loop-the-loop, crazy heart beat, oh shit moment stuff out of the way, that he’d managed to get a handle on it during his brief stint in the alley. But, no, he was a self-deluded idiot.

Seeing Derek cuddling a dirty, possibly mangy, blood soaked cat while whispering sweet nothings into her ear like she was a small child, disabused Stiles of the notion that he had any control over his bodily functions when it came to Derek Hale.

Stiles lived with his internal crisis for a few more seconds, until Derek stood up.

“I’m going to take this little beauty to see Scott. Will I see you tonight?”

Stiles mumbled what must have been some sort of affirmative because Derek said goodbye and left the alley.

When he got back to his baby, he collapsed in the front seat and banged his head against the steering wheel a couple times. He did not need this kind of complication in his life right now.

*******

Stiles can’t remember the last time he found himself banging frantically on Scott’s door. Probably high school sometime. With the distinct lack of big bads of the supernatural variety in the last few years, there hasn’t been much need.

Now, however, he finds himself banging on the door to the apartment Scott shares with Isaac, hoping the curly-haired menace is currently elsewhere. Don’t get him wrong, he’s square with Isaac now, friends even. It’s just, he’d like to have his mental breakdown in the presence of Scotty and Scotty and Scotty alone.

Thankfully, it appears Scott is home alone when Stiles walks in and collapses in flail of limbs on the couch.

“Scotty, my brother, my friend, my bro, my wolfy companion, the world as we know it is over.”

Completely unfazed by Stiles’ declaration, Scott sits on the coffee table across from Stiles and puts his hands on Stiles’ knees before speaking. With a gentle squeeze, Scott says, “The squirrels?”

“Yes, Scotty the squirrels. There’s an acronym. TSql. You know how I get about acronyms Tee-squill or The Squirrel Index.”

Stiles makes a concerted effort not to be sucked into an ADD fueled rant about squirrels and power outages before he can backtrack to what he came here to talk about.

“I’m in love with Derek Hale.”

This statement is greeted with complete silence. He risks a glance at Scott to see if maybe his declaration had somehow caused him to die of shock.

Nope, Scott is just looking at him with confused puppy dog eyes.

Finally Scott speaks. It’s slow, like he’s talking to a toddler or scared dog. “Are you okay?”

A noise Stiles can’t even begin to describe or categorize emerges from deep within his being. The gist of the noise was, “How can you ask me that? I don’t know. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. And when the hell did this happen?

Scott, blessed, wonderful, fantastic Scott seems to read his mind or possibly his noises. Maybe his noises are to Scott like Derek’s eyebrows are to Stiles. Aaand, that is a thought for another day.

“Well, it’s not the most terrible thing. I mean, Derek is a really good guy, You guys have been working together a lot lately what with working on the remodel plans for the house. Maybe it just happened naturally.” Scott says.

“Hmph. Naturally, you say.” Stiles pauses. Now Scotty is not always the brightest crayon in the box when it comes to analytics or plans or anything GPA related but Scotty has heart. When it comes to relationships and emotions, he’s usually right.

He things back to the first time they had to hit the road to visit some lumber distributor 3 hours away. The silence had started out extremely awkward. Stiles had fiddled with the radio and half-heartedly tried to comment on the passing landscape.

But then he had flicked the radio station through some kids station and Let It Go started playing. Somehow in the fraction of a second before Stiles was able to change the station again, Derek starts singing along. It’s under his breath, Stiles isn’t even sure if he realized he was doing it.

The ended up bonding over Disney leading ladies (not just princesses, thank you very much) for the next 2 hours. It seems like maybe that was the beginning of it all now that Stiles thinks about in a more calm state of mind. He should have figured it out when they gave each other nicknames. Derek is Elsa, Stiles is Mulan. And yes they actually call each other those names, unironically on occasion.

“…earth to Stiles….” He comes back to the present with Scott’s fingers snapping in his face.

“Sorry. You’re right.” Stiles feels himself smiling a little as his heart does a weird happy lurch in his chest. “Shoulda realized after our shared love of all things Disney.”

Scott nods, “And a relationship built over the years based on trust, respect, and a terrible sense of humor.”

“Okay, okay. So not a surprise and probably not as life altering and world changing as I may have first thought. But, still…” Stiles trails off. His oh shit moment blindsided him so much that he hadn’t actually thought about what came next. Does he declare his love? Or maybe just ask Derek out of a date? Or just pretend nothing has changed? Or die of embarrassment when Laura finds out that Derek said no? Or yes - he’s not sure which would cause Laura to dole out the worse punishment.

Scott, again with his uncanny ability to read Stiles’ mind, says, “You know you don’t have to decide what to do right away. The question to ask yourself is, what do you want?”

“I don’t know what I want. I hadn’t really thought beyond hoping Derek doesn’t think I’m dying of a heart condition every time he walks in the room.”

“I hear you, buddy. I’ve got to go to work. Think about it.”

Scott grabs his keys and his wallet and is about to head out the door before he turns back towards Stiles, “You coming tonight?”

Already lost in thought, Stiles replies distractedly, “Yeah. I’ll probably just crash here until then. Ride over together?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

Stiles barely notices the door slam behind Scott. What does he want? He’d always imagined himself in a marriage with kids like his parents. Then werewolves happened and it was hard to imagine past the next week, much less into a future with kids. He’d had a few brief relationships during nursing school but no one he could picture a future with. Now, since he’d come into his spark and they’d managed to bind the nemeton? Not to mention, Laura back from the dead and taking her place as Alpha? Beacon Hills was stable. Nothing had come rampaging through and killing people in almost 3 years.

He hadn’t realized it, but he’d sort of been cruising through on auto-pilot just waiting for another shoe to drop the past few years. Not doing noher, just not really having any intentionality about anything either.

This oh shit thing, this being in love with Derek, maybe that made him think about a future. Stiles isn’t ready to picture being married with 2.5 pups yet. But, walking down the street, holding Derek’s hand for all the world to see, that he could imagine. Sharing curly fries at the diner or going to see a movie, cuddling together under a blanket on the porch swing - those thoughts made him feel warm all the way to his core. Just thinking about made his lips twitch towards a smile and his heart race in anticipation.

Ok, he now knows what he wants. Now, what to do about it, that is the million dollar question.

*******

He ends up bailing on Scotty and going over to the newly-remodeled (with his help!) Hale house early, hoping to catch Laura before everyone started piling in for her birthday dinner.

Luck must be on his side today because for the second time in one day the person he wants to see is home and alone.

He finds Laura in the garden out back singing to the vegetables, She claims it makes them taste better - and veggies can use all the help they can get in the taste department, so she sings.

She waltzes over to him and takes his hands to lead him a rousing dance through the tomatoes as she sings highly altered versions of the VeggieTales songs. Stiles knows better than to try and escape the song and dance so he bears up manfully until Laura ends her song in a fit a giggles.

“What brings you to see your favorite Alpha, today?” she asks when she finally catches her breath. She folds her legs under her gracefully sits in the grass as she asks her question.

Stiles sits beside her and takes a deep breath for courage.

“I’m here to give you your birthday present.”

A grin spreads across Laura’s face as she does gimme hands towards Stiles.

He swats her hands away playfully, before speaking, “Alas, not that kind of gift.” He smiles, “What is your absolute favorite thing to do in all the world?”

Stiles pauses for a moment but before Laura can respond, he adds, with a pointed look, “You actually favorite thing, not some sentimental drivel cause it’s your birthday.”

Laura blows a raspberry at him, “Fine. But only because you’re my favorite.” She wiggles her hands like she’s a puppeteer and cackles before saying, “Meddling”

Stiles gives an exaggerated nod. “Thus my gift to you. First - information no one else but Scotty has”

Her eyes light up and her grin widens.

“Then, I’m going to ask for advice. Now, in the spirit of birthdays, I’m allowing you to meddle. I ask in return, good faith advice, not advice to make me do what you think would be funniest.’

Her grin doesn’t fade but a hint of seriousness comes into her eyes. Stiles can tell she understands even before she nods her head.

Stiles looks down at his hands. He had decided to come and talk to Laura but he hadn’t really figured out how he wanted to start. Well, he figured it worked for Scotty so he might as well just try ripping the bandaid off.

“I’m in love with your brother.”

Laura didn’t do anything so ungraceful as gape like a fish but the phrase, you could have knocked me over with a feather came to Stiles’ mind as he watched her reaction.

Stiles forges ahead before Laura has a chance to reply. “Our pack being what it is, we don’t stand on werework tradition very often. But I was wondering if there was a traditional way to court a werewolf? A wooing ritual or something?

Stiles can tell Laura is trying really hard not to laugh - not out of meanness but out of the sheer ridiculosity of what he is saying. Stiles waves her off.

“I know. I know. I’m the last person to care about tradition. But, you know, Derek has had the best track record. First Paige died, then Kate, and Jennifer. Braeden wasn’t so bad but it also wasn’t so serious. I want Derek to know I’m serious and that he has a choice. If there were a traditional way of doing that, then that is what I’m looking for. If not, I’ll figure something else out.”

Laura scoots around so they are facing each other and practically mirrors Scott from earlier when she puts her hands on his knees before speaking.

“I don’t know if Derek feels that way about you, I don’t know what his reaction to you will be. But I do know this. He could never confuse your intentions with any of those who came before.” She sat up and put her hands back in her lap before continuing. “There is not a wolfy-wooing ritual per se. At least, not one that I am aware. But there is this nursery rhyme or poem kind of thing that our mom used to say to use about the one we would eventually fall in love with. Let me think for a second and try to remember it.”

Her brow scrunched slightly and he eyes drifted to the left as she thought, Okay. It went something like this: Each wolf is whole in itself but there are those who are created to walk beside in perfect harmony. A mate to write their name on your heart will make you safe by watching your back, give you peace by travelling beside you, bring you joy by smiling back at you, and join hands with you so will never be alone on your life journey. You know Derek has the Triskelion tattoo on his back and that can mean a lot of things. But he also has a Triquetra tattoo on his hip. It comes from this verse. The three points are behind, beside and in front of, joined together in the center, together forever. It’s not a ritual or anything but it might help you figure out what you want to do.”

The whole time Laura had been talking, Stiles paid rapt attention. He wasn’t crying by the end but he was certainly moist in the region around his eyes. He had an idea.

But like all great ideas, life interrupted.

******

It was about halfway through Laura’s birthday dinner. Everyone had had one plate of food and most of the wolves had had a second plate but no one had even mentioned cake yet.

Stiles noticed the cat first. He nudged Derek. “You didn’t tell me you brought that cat home.”

Derek turned towards Stiles, confusion clear on his face, fork with potatoes stabbed through on it hanging in the air halfway to his mouth, “I didn’t”

Stiles chuckles slightly and nods in the direction of the cat which is now in the doorway to the dining room. “Then she followed you home.

By this time, the rest of the table has quieted and turned to see what Stiles and Derek are looking at. The cat continues walking towards but with each step, she gets larger and larger until when she reaches the table it is but a small step to climb up on the table and continue walking down it’s center.

The cat, now roughly the size of a miniature pony, walks past Lydia and Jackson, then Erica and Boyd, and Scott and Isaac, and completely ignoring Laura and Stiles before she stops in front of Derek. All of the sudden there is a naked lady instead of cat sitting in the middle of the dining room table.

“Kind one,” she hisses, “You have saved my life this day. You have shown your worth. In the name of Samaoth, High Priestess of the Sable Court of Fae, you are granted a boon.” She waved her arm in a graceful arc around her head somehow managing not to have any other part of her body move a single muscle. You’d think the naked part would be the most eye catching part of the naked fae sitting on the table but it was more like a statue that didn’t really know how a human body worked. It looked right - sort of. But the more you looked, the more wrong you felt on the inside.

When her arm was in front of Derek one, it held a plain manila folder in it’s hand. Derek was just staring.

With a slight hint of impatience, Samaoth hissed, “Take it now mortal. Do as it says and you will be granted your heart’s greatest desire.”

Derek reached out and took the folder. Before his fingers had even fully closed on the edges, Samaoth had vanished into thin air. He didn’t quite have hold of it yet and the folder dropped to the table, relieving itself of a single piece of paper.

It was a simple piece of printer paper. Across the top it read, “Booking Confirmation for Sable Court Representative to the Greater Northwest Region Supernatural Symposium: Derek Hale, plus one.”

After about 30 seconds of stunned silence, every single person at the table began speaking at once.

*******

An indeterminate amount of time later, Laura’s alpha roar breaks through the cacophony of shouts coming from the rest of the pack.

Once everyone is quiet, Laura turns to Derek, who is still sitting in silence and staring at the innocuous looking piece of paper on the table in front of him.

Laura asks him, with slightly forced calm, “Der-bear, what’s going on?”

Derek opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. Stiles doesn’t even recognize Derek’s current eyebrow configuration.

Derek swallows and tries again. “Well,” he pauses, “there was this cat and it was bleeding and I took it to Scott to get fixed up.” He looks helplessly around the table. “It was a normal cat.”

The focused attention of the whole pack swings around to Scott. He shrugs sheepishly. “It was a normal cat. I gave her stitches and left her in the kennel overnight. Though, it seems like she got out.”

Laura rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay. Normal cat. Got it. Except your normal cat is apparently the High Priestess of the Sable Court of the Fae. Derek, what does the paper say?”

Derek looks at Laura and startles like he hadn’t thought to read past the bold heading. His eyes rapidly scan the paper. “Apparently the Greater Northwest Regional Supernatural Symposium is being hosted in Seattle this year at the Fairmont Olympic Hotel, ummm, next weekend. Registration starts on Thursday afternoon at 4 PM. It has a confirmation number, address, phone number and whatnot and a link to app download and password to download the app for the symposium.”

Stiles decides that now is the time to speak up, “For those of us who are new to werewolfly culture, what exactly is the Greater Northwest Region Supernatural Symposium?

Laura sighs before she answers. “It’s going to be a shitshow, that’s what. Wolves aren’t usually invited. We’re too volatile or something. It is mainly run by the fae and other ‘more evolved’ supernatural beings. The get together to schmooze, make treaties and listen to presentations on things like ‘Kobolds and cleaning: an analysis of practices through the ages’ or ‘Pixies in the modern age: pesky or pragmatic?’ It’s pretty much a chance for the hoity toity of supernatural society to get together and bond over how superior they are to the rest of us. For a wolf to show up, and not even an alpha will be an insult to every single being there.”

Stiles feels the need to pipe in again, “Great. So this is the gist. Derek saves this cat’s life, he gets a boon - supposedly his greatest desire but only if he goes to this conference of supernatural one percenters. This is ridiculous!” Turning to Lydia, he continues, “Is this even possible? I thought we had a big do not touch sign over us after our last dealings with the fae.”

Lydia responds quickly, “You’re right. But, Samaoth didn’t seek us out. Derek sought her out - albeit unknowingly - so that may cancel the binding. Let me see if Illirial is available speak with us.

Lydia’s eyes turn milky white as she chants under her breath. The wolves can probably tell what she is saying but to Stiles it just seems like a low susurrus. After a few moments her eyes return to normal and she holds out her hand.

A moment after that a small hologram - Princess Leia style - appears in her hand. Stiles hates dealing with the fae. It makes his brain hurt. But they all owe Illirial and he seems to make an effort not to be purposefully obtuse when speaking with them.

His voice is slightly tinny when he speaks, “Greetings Hale Pack. It is a pleasure to be with you once more. For what reason have you requested my presence this day?”

As Lydia was the best at untangling the vagueries of fae speech, Lydia replied. “We call upon you as a friend, with no obligation attached, to ask of you some information. Under what circumstances might this be amenable to you?”

Illirial appeared to think about it for a moment. “As friends, it would be in my heart to give this information, if I am able. Perhaps one day I may come to you, with no obligation, for the same, until such time as we have shared information of equal value. If I am unable to share what you ask, we will speak of this no more and part again as friends.”

Lydia nodded and continued, “This is generous of you, Illirial. You confirm yourself as friend of the Hale Pack. What can you tell us of the Sable Court of the Fae? Specifically of the priestly order attached to it.”

“As you know, generally, the fae owe allegiance to either the Seelie or Unseelie court. This is balance, as it should be. You mortals may believe one to be good and one to be evil but we fae do not ascribe to that kind of moral judgment. Seelie and Unseelie merely are. WIthout the balance of the courts, the world would fall apart, in a most literal sense. But we fae, while bound to our courts, do have free will. In times when balance is threatened, the fae turn to the Sable Court. They are judge; they are arbiter; and if need be, they are executioner. The high priestess has final say in all decisions made by the Sable Court.”

When it was apparent the Illirial was done speaking, Lydia spoke again, “If the Sable Court High Priestess were to offer a boon, with an obligation attached, what should one take into consideration while deciding on a course of action?”

Illirial responded immediately, in almost a panic, “Only the recipient of the boon can make that choice. Only five times in our history has the Sable court been known to offer a boon. Each time the obligation was how the boon was revealed. While danger might abide within fulfilling the obligation, the Sable Fae are straightforward. There will be no hidden knives or truthful deceits as you might find with some of the other fae.”

Lydia nodded again and replied, “Illirial, the Hale Pack thanks you for the information you have shared so openly, which we acknowledge is beyond your natural state. That which we do not speak of will remain private and you may feel free to call upon the Hale Pack for an exchange of information equal in value to what you have offered us. Go with peace and the blessing of Mother Moon.”

Illirial bowed and vanished from Lydia’s hand.

Stiles turned back towards Laura to see how she would respond to this information and saw his Alpha was white as a sheet. All the blood had drained from her face and she looked like she was about to fall over.

“That’s who did it?” she asked.

Stiles startled. He didn’t know how but he’d forgotten that Laura had never met Illirial before.

Derek grabbed her hand. “Yes.” He looked like he wanted to fight the binding for a moment but then his features calmed. “You know we can’t even speak of how it happened. But yes, it was Illirial who brought you back from the dead.“

Stiles suddenly realized that it was probably the Sable Court that had dictated the binding of secrecy around that whole fiasco. Even now, it was hard to think back to that couple of months when the fae had descended on Beacon Hills. If he tried to pin down the memory too specifically, it would slide away like trying to hold fast to a thousand strings being pulled in all different directions.

Laura seemed to come back to herself. “I know Der-bear. I understand.

Derek stood up. “Well, I guess I better get packed to go to Seattle.”

Stiles made the decision in an instant and stood up as well. “Me too.”

“What?” Derek replied.

Stiles picked up the sheet of paper and waved in front of his face. “Plus one, Sourwolf. I’m going with you.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but was cut off when Laura said, “Good idea. I’ll book you both flights up for Thursday morning.”

*******

2 Days Later (aka Thursday)

Stiles settled into the first class seat Laura had sprung for with a wiggle of his hips. He turned towards Derek, still grinning, when he heard him groan under his breath.

“None of your groaning or sighing is going to ruin this for me, Derek. First class! I’m going to get a hot towel. And free snacks. This is awesome.”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to spoil your fun. It is pretty awesome.” Derek smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes - or his eyebrows.

Stiles turned serious for a moment, “Hey. Sourwolf, I know you don’t like not knowing what’s going to happen but your heart’s desire, that’s gotta be exciting to think about.”

Derek gave another half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

“What do you think it will be?”

“I don’t know. I do kind of wonder about whether it’ll be something that I go, ‘oh, of course’ or if it will be something I didn’t even know I wanted. Or if Samaoth can somehow look into the future and know what domino to knock over now that will result in a chain reaction that will make me happy down the road.”

“Whoa there, Derek. That is a lot hamsters running around on their wheels inside your head.” Stiles pauses. “Seriously, though, would any of those options be a bad thing?”

Derek’s eyebrows morph into thinking position #2 and he is silent for a while.

This time, the smile on Derek’s face is genuine. “You’re right. We go to this conference. We come home and then I get my heart’s desire.”

Stiles heart does a little lurch at that. Right now, he knows what his heart’s desire would be: to build a life with Derek. He hopes that spending this weekend alone with Derek will help him think about what Laura said and decide how he wants to woo Derek.

Because Derek deserves ALL the wooing.

*******

Stiles flops on the bed as soon as they get to their hotel room. He blows out a frustrated breath and closes his eyes. Landing in Seattle had started off on the right foot. They had both fallen asleep on the flight and Stiles woke up with Derek’s head resting on his shoulder and their hands pressed together on the arm rest. However, it had all gone downhill from there.

Getting their luggage, getting out of the airport, and the ride to the hotel don’t bear mentioning beyond the word torture. But, then they had finally gotten to the check in desk and the finish line was in sight when Stiles tuned into what the customer service representative was saying:

“Mr. Hale and Mr. Stilinski, welcome to the Fairmont Olympic Hotel. I hope you enjoy your stay in Seattle. You have been booked in one of our honeymoon suites. This includes a complimentary bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. Please, just let room service know when you would like them delivered. Here is your room key.”

Derek quickly responded, “We were booked in the what?”

“The honeymoon suite, sir.”

“We are just here for a conference, A room with 2 doubles or 2 queens will be sufficient.”

“Sir, we are completely booked. There are no other rooms available.”

Derek looks like he wants to argue with her but instead puts on his big boy pants and says, “Fine. But, you can keep the champagne. I don’t drink.”

The woman’s smile brightens. “Thank you, sir. And please accept this voucher for a free spa treatment instead of the champagne.”

Derek stares at the woman until Stiles reaches out and takes the voucher. “Thank you ma’am. Have a wonderful day.”

So, the bed Stiles has just collapsed on is the bed he is going to have sleep in tonight. With Derek.

Now, apart from the initial freak out, Stiles thinks he’s dealt with his oh shit moment like a completely mature adult. He listened to his heart, decided what he really wanted from the situation and is setting about figuring out how to get there while respecting the other person involved. But none of that mature adult thinking included having to share a bed with Derek Hale.

Also, until now he had somehow managed to not really think about the physical ramifications of being in love with Derek Hale. He didn’t think that Derek was asexual so that meant that somewhere in the future, if his wooing was successful, their would be sex. Sex with Derek.

His face burns just thinking about it. But also, his pants parts are also thinking about getting excited as well. Pants parts… Stiles groans internally. He’s not twelve anymore. If he can’t say the words he’s not mature enough to do the deed.

His brain spirals a bit as it starts to list all the names of things he needs to be mature enough to say. Penis. DIck. Cock. Asshole. Balls.

He is interrupted in his reverie by Derek clearing his throat. “I don’t know what you are thinking about right now but could you please not smell up the bed we both have to sleep in tonight with those thoughts?”

Stiles almost chokes on his own tongue. “Ye…YEa..yes. Sure thing. Sorry.”

He stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.” He groans. “That just made it worse, didn’t it.”

Derek chuckles. “Yes, it did. Don’t worry about it. I’m just teasing. I am not sure that there is any smell you could make that could be worse than the airplane.”

Stiles felt his face heat up for a different reason. He knows Derek is just trying to make him feel better, but he thinks he maybe just gave Stiles a compliment or said that he doesn’t mind what Stiles smells like when he is aroused.

Stiles shuts down that train of thought immediately and goes to throw some water on his face in the bathroom. When he comes out Derek is sitting on the bed like he was waiting for Stiles.

Stiles jitters nervously around the room, touching everything and generally berating himself for not being able to act normal.

FInally, Derek speaks. “So, I know we don’t spend a lot of time with supernatural beings outside of our pack. There are some rules of politeness that it would probably be good for you to know.”

Derek talks for awhile and Stiles tries to remember all the protocol that Derek is telling him.

“Finally, with me not being the Alpha and you being a human spark, we will need to ramp up the appearance of our pack bond.”

“What exactly does that mean, Sourwolf?”

Derek stands up and walks towards Stiles. He stops just inside a normal human’s comfort zone for being a near another person. Derek looks Stiles in the eyes. They stand there for about 5 seconds that felt like 5 years before Derek reaches out and cups Stiles face, rubbing his thumbs over the apples of Stiles’ cheeks. He raises his eyebrows like he’s asking permission.

Stiles has no idea what is going on here but he really doesn’t care. Derek can do what the hell he wants to right now. Stiles nods.

Derek steps closer and leans towards Stiles, coming even closer.

Stiles closes his eyes. His heart is rabbiting out of his chest. He opens his mouth to gulp in air as he thinks he might be drowning. Surely Derek can tells what kind of effect he’s having.

Just when Stiles thought he might die of anticipation, Derek ducks his head and rubs his cheek on Stiles’ neck and shoulder.

Stiles lets out a high pitched squeaking noise. He realizes that Derek meant pack scenting. They needed to touch each other so the pack bond was more apparent in how they smelled.

Derek is still rubbing his face on Stiles’ neck when Stiles breaks. He lets out a almost hysterical sounding burst of laughter and sways backwards away from Derek.

“Stiles, are you okay?”

Stiles wheezes. “Yeah, of course. Scent marking. Pack bonds. Got it. That’s all.”

He knows he’s not making any sense but oh shit Stiles wants to climb Derek like a tree. I mean, he always know Derek was attractive but this kind of visceral physical reaction is a whole new thing.

Derek takes a step forward, confused eyebrows returning, and asks again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Stiles begins to nod like a bobble head dolls, preparing to reassure Derek that he is indeed fine. Instead, he says. “No, nowhere near fine.”

Concern painting Derek’s features, he starts to talk but Stiles cuts him off.

“Scent marking makes sense now that you say it outloud. But seriously, before you saying it, it felt like you were going to do something completely different. I mean I know it makes no sense but I’ve been kissed a few times and I know what it feels like coming on. I mean I know that doesn’t make any sense but I don’t think my heart could take thinking you were going to kiss me and then you don’t but you’re still rubbing all up on me.”

Stiles knows he’s rambling. It’s the ADD and the stress but he can’t seem to stop himself. Finally Derek just slaps a hand over his mouth, forcing Stiels to stop.

Derek looks almost bewildered. “Is kissing me something you want?”

It’s Stiles turn to feel bewildered. “How do you just ask that? That’s a crazy kind of a question.”

Derek raises one eyebrow and says, “Stiles, answer the question. I’m not going to make fun of you.”

Stiles takes a deep breath and looks up at Derek, feeling shy for the first time in a very long time. His voice comes out like a whisper. “Yes. I think I do. I mean it’s a pretty recent development and I had planned on wooing you before i told you, but since you ask, yes, kissing you is something that I want.”

Derek is silent for awhile before Stiles eventually begs, “Come on, Sourwolf, put me out of my misery here, one way or the other.”

Derek looks up again, his face vulnerable in a way that Stiles isn’t sure he’s ever seen. “I’ll be honest, I’ve never thought of you in that way before. But now that you bring it up, it seems like maybe it could be worth thinking about. I don’t want to kiss you on an experient, with us wanting different things out of it. Maybe we could talk more about it when we get home and give me a little while to think it over.”

Stiles isn’t really sure how to process what Derek just said beyond it wasn’t no. Stiles smiles, a little hope seeping into his own thoughts on the matter.

“Yeah, Derek. That sounds good.” He looks helplessly around, not really sure how to start a different conversation and not really having any thing else to do in the hotel room.

Derek saves the day. “Look, they have registrations times in the morning as well as tonight. What do you say we go and see a movie tonight instead of sticking around the hotel? We can grab some dinner too.”

“Yeah. That sounds great.” This is not a date, Stiles repeats to himself in his mind over and over again. But at the same time, he can’t keep the goofy smile off his face..

*******

The not-a-date was amazing. Somehow, they had both been able to just have fun together and not get stuck dwelling on to kiss or not to kiss question. Stiles was floating on cloud 9 until they got back to the hotel room. More specifically, the bed.

Stiles and Derek have both changed into sweatpants and t-shirts and are standing on opposite sides of the bed, just staring at it and not getting in.

Finally, Stiles looks up and tries to school his face into a serious demeanor. “Now look here. I have already admitted to where I stand on the whole kissing question. I am a virile young specimen of a human being. This” he says pointing a finger around the bed, “is a no judgment zone. You ignore any bodily functions that may happen in this bed, because of how I feel about you.”

By the end of his speech, Stiles’ cheeks are burning and he doesn’t know why but he is having trouble catching his breath.

Derek blinks like an owl. “Feelings?” He’s sounding a little breathless himself.

Stiles shakes his head in frustration. “Yes, Derek. Feelings! I thought we already had this conversation.”

Derek shakes his head. “No. We had a conversation about kissing. Not a conversation about feelings.’

“Yeah, well, for me there the same damn conversation. The feelings came first. Then the wanting to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

“What, oh?” Stiles bites out, beginning to feel annoyed. And embarrassed.

“In my experience, that’s not always the case. Not with Kate or Jennifer or Braeden.” Derek replies in a very small voice.

Stiles annoyance falls away and his heart breaks, just a little. Stiles walks around the bed so he can at least be near to Derek.

“I know we haven’t worked the whole feelings/kissing thing out but can I give you a hug?”

Derek doesn’t even reply. He just reaches for Stiles and wraps his arms around his entire torso. Derek practically collapses into the hug and Stiles does his best to channel everything he learned about hugs from his Mom and Mama McCall into this hug.

Stiles thinks this might be the longest he’s ever hugged anyone for and he doesn’t ever want to let Derek go. But eventually their arms naturally drop. Stiles puts his hands on Derek’s cheeks, and looks him in the eyes.

“Listen to me, Derek. I love being your friend. I love being your packmate. I love getting to spend time with you. Me being in love with you won’t change any of that if you don’t want it to. It’s like an A and an A+. Both are awesome. One is just a slight improvement over the other. I don’t want the A+ unless it is going to make you happy too. I’m here for the A no matter what you decide about kissing and feelings.”

Derek closed his eyes before he started speaking. Stiles can feel each movement of his jaw as he chokes out a response. “The last time I tried kissing and feelings together, I ended up having to kill her. I don’t know how to do this like a normal person.”

“Derek, look at me. Do you think that I know how to do this like a normal person either? There is no normal. There is just whatever we decide we want.”

In a barely audible whisper, Derek says, “I think I’d like to try this with you. But slowly. Definitely feelings, but maybe no more than kissing for awhile.?”

Stiles can’t imagine what the sheer joy that sweeps through him must smell like to Derek but Derek sniffs the air and a grin breaks out across his whole face, eyebrows and all.

Stiles is practically vibrating in place. “Can I kiss you now?””

Instead of answering, Derek leans forward and gently presses their lips together. Despite how chaste the kiss is, Stiles feels it to the very core of him. His heart is doing things he couldn’t eve describe and his knees are about to buckle.

Without thought, his arms wrap around Derek’s neck and his hips press forward. He stops himself short of grinding because that would not be taking it slow. But, as it is, he and Derek are touch from head to toe, wrapped in each other’s arms and more deliriously happy than Stiles knew was possible.

Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair as he pulled away from their kiss. Stiles didn’t have scent to go by but he thought that Derek was just as happy as he was.

“Alright, lover boy or lover wolf? Is that a thing. It should be. Lover-wolf, let’s go to bed.”

“Not a thing. Don’t make it a thing.”

“Too late, lover-wolf, its a thing.”

They both climb into bed and Stiles stalls out for a minute but then he reaches out and takes Derek’s hand. By the time they fell asleep, Stiles had claimed the position of big spoon and had Derek wrapped in his arms.

*******

The first thing Stiles notices when he wakes up is that he is wrapped around a furnace. Then he realizes that furnace is Derek and his brain shorts out in pure bliss for a moment. But as soon as the warm fuzzy endorphins finish blazing through his system, he begins to take note of other things.

The muscles of Derek’s arm under his head. The roughness of the hair on Derek’s chest, where Stiles’ arm is rested. The tangle their legs have made. The insistent pressure of Derek’s hip bone against his rapidly hardening cock.

Stiles moans almost unconsciously as his hips jerk forward a few times, chasing that beautiful, wonderful pressure. It takes more willpower than he knew he possessed to stop and cant his hips away from Derek. Rubbing off on Derek after sharing one chaste kiss was not taking it slow.

Instead, Stiles scritched his fingers over Derek’s chest where they lay and was about to wake Derek up. Before he can get ‘good morning’ out of his mouth, Derek is on the other side of the room, wolfed out and panting like he just ran a marathon. His eyes are wide and wild - almost like he is somewhere else and not here in a hotel room with Stiles.

Stiles sits up in bed, not sure what just happened. “Derek, what’s wrong?” he asks, voice taut with false calm. He has to stay calm.

Derek hunches further into the corner of the room when Stiles speaks and doesn’t respond.

“Ok, Sourwolf. I’m going to get out of bed slowly. I’m not going to hurt you. You are safe.” Stiles keeps talking, low and calm, while he slowly walks towards Derek with his hands out.

Stiles stops just inside arm’s reach of Derek. He curses himself for his stupidity in what he is about to do. He takes one step closer to the frightened, wolfed out werewolf, not really sure what his next step will be. But when Stiles gets closer to Derek, Derek sniffs the air and that seems to break through whatever Derek had been experiencing.

He manages to pull back the shift and lurches forward into Stiles’ arms, pulling him into a desperate hug and burying his nose in Stiles’ neck. He is pulling in deep breaths of Stiles’ scent and trembling in his arms.

Stiles is at a loss but does his best to hold the man he loves through whatever’s happening right now. He ends up sliding to the floor so he hold Derek better as he is rocking back and forth.

He seems to be inhaling huge breaths of Stiles scent. When Stiles focuses enough to tell what Derek is muttering, he hears, “It’s Stiles. Stiles not Kate. Stiles is safe” over and over again.

Once he picks up what Derek is saying, Stiles heart breaks even more. He leans back a bit and tries to get Derek to look at him, “Sourwolf, your’re safe. I promise.”

Derek won’t be moved. “Need to smell you. Eyes can lie. Need to smell you.”

“Okay, Okay. At least come to the be…couch with me. We can be more comfortable.”

Derek shook the whole way to the couch and immediately curled back into Stiles’ space when they sat down.

It was almost an hour before Derek calmed himself down enough to unwind from Stiles. Stiles arms and legs were so cramped and he had to pee so bad he thought he might actually wet himself. He’d kind of thought they might have gotten through a few dates and make-outs before he was hit over the head with the ‘worse’ part of ‘for better or worse’. Not that he was thinking about marriage already. Oh shit! He might be thinking of marriage already.

“You gonna be okay if I go pee real fast?”

A ghost of a smile flashed across Derek’s face. “Yeah, I think so.” He paused, “But hurry, please”

Stiles peed the fasted he’d ever peed and went back to sit beside Derek.

He gets a good look for the first time since they moved to the couch. Derek’s face is pale and drawn with tear tracks streaking his cheeks. His eyes look hollowed out and exhausted. His whole body is hunched over like he is ashamed.

Stiles gently lifts Derek’s chin so he can look him in the face. “What happened?”

Derek opens his mouth like he was going to talk but instead ends up shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you deal with that. You didn’t sign up for that. Just sorry.”

“Hey, hey. No. Before anything else, I am your friend and packmate. Which means I absolutely signed up for keeping you safe when you are terrified. I absolutely signed up for being there when you need me. The kissing and feelings has nothing to do with that. And I did sign up for that.”

Stiles thinks he must look strange because the way Derek is looking at him is like he’s never seen Stiles before. It almost makes Stiles embarrassed for how fierce he just was. But then Derek whispers, “Thank you.” And, that’s it. Stiles knows he said the right thing.

“Anytime. Though I do hope not all the time.” Stiles takes a moment to choose his next words very carefully. “If you don’t quite know what happened or don’t feel ready to talk about it yet, that’s okay. I’m not going to press. But I think you should consider talking about it. I mean, maybe with a professional. I’m always happy to listen but that was a really big reaction to I don’t know what. I am here for you and I will always be here for you. However, a professional might make it so you get better instead of just having support when it’s bad. I don’t know if I said that right or not.”

Derek’s voice is back up to normal volume. “You said it just fine. Maybe. I’d have to find someone supernatural. Maybe Laura knows of someone.”

Stiles is full to bursting with pride when Derek says that. The pink on Derek’s cheeks tells Stiles, he can probably smell that on him. He replies to Derek’s cheeks instead of his eyebrows like usual, “Yes, I’m proud of you. Get used to it, Sourwolf.”

*******

It takes awhile for them to finally get around to taking showers and getting dressed. By the time they are ready to leave the room, there is only about 15 minutes left of registration. Stiles is about to open the door when Derek grabs his hand and stops him.

He fumbles for his words for a moment before his eyebrows become determined and he looks up at Stiles. “So you know rank and protocol can be very important to supernatural beings.”

Stiles nods.

“As an unmated wolf representing a pretty powerful group, I will be considered fair game.”

“Fair game for what?”

“Wolves have a lot of behaviors surrounding smell because that sense is enhanced for us. For the fae, touch is very powerful. They can read auras, map bindings and relationships, heal or harm based on intention, enact treaties, and so much more. They understand enough about wolves to know not to touch a mated wolf without permission but an unmated wolf is fair game.”

“What are you saying? Cause it almost feels like you want me to be your mate so you don’t get touched too much while we’re here. And that feels like you are manipulating me because you know about my feelings. I don’t think you would do that so please tell me what you are saying.”

Derek looks horrified as he talks again, “No. Nonono. I just meant, maybe we could pretend to be mated. Maybe engaged to be mated or something. We wouldn’t smell right to other wolves but for the fae, they might believe if we were convincing enough.”

“I’m not sure that would be much better, Sourwolf. I don’t want you kissing me and touching me if you don’t mean it. That would be too heartbreaking for me.”

“What if we just didn’t say anything but did some of the stuff we’ve already done, just in public - holding hands, hugging, ummm, small kisses.”

Stiles thought about it for a moment. “Just make a promise. Don’t do anything with or to me that you don’t have feelings behind. I mean maybe you wouldn’t have thought to do it at just that moment except us being here but in general, it would make you happy to do it with me…”

Stiles huffs out a breath. That didn’t even make sense to him and he said it.

Derek takes a step closer. “I’d be happy to hold your hand all the time. Being surrounded by your scent is amazing. It’s like no matter what else is going on, no matter how crazy or dangerous things are, I can find peace if you are nearby.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yean, okay.”

Stiles turns to the door of their hotel room again, about to open it. And, again, Derek stops him. “Umm, before we go down there, can we do one more thing?”

Stiles tilts his head in inquiry.

“Can I kiss you again?”

Stiles’ breath whooshes out of him and his heart beats in that quadruple staccato as he nods his head.

Derek crowds him against the wall, boxing Stiles in with his whole body before he leans in and presses their lips together.

Stiles doesn’t know and really doesn’t care what to do with his hands. They flail up and land somewhere on Derek’s back as his legs give a wobble under him. Oh God. This is like a perfect moment.

Then, Derek opens his mouth just a bit and lets his tongue lick at Stiles’ lips. That sends a shock right to Stiles’ heart and feels warm through his whole body. Another lick and shock lands a bit lower. There’s nowhere for him to move that doesn’t involve rubbing against Derek.

This time, Derek rubs back and Stiles thinks he might die of sheer pleasure. He opens his mouth, letting his tongue meet Derek’s. At Stiles’ acquiescence, Derek growls, eyes flashing blue, and grabs Stiles’ hands. He slams them against the wall above their heads and presses hard into Stiles’ whole body.

Stiles whines and tries to reciprocate as much as possible but Derek has complete control over him. And, oh shit, does that work for him. HIs brain is rapidly dribbling out his ears, being replaced entirely by the pleasure of Derek pinning him to a wall.

All of the sudden Derek lets out a frustrated groan and Stiles’ front is freezing. Derek takes a step back, chest heaving and eyes blown wide. Stiles is sure he looks about the same. Maybe with a touch more confusion.

“Wha…why did you stop?”

Derek practically growls out his answer and his eyes flash blue again, “The first time I make you come, it won’t be pinned against the wall in a hotel room that smells like about 10 other people.”

Stiles thinks if he were five years younger, hearing Derek say that might have made him come untouched, standing against a wall in a hotel room. As is, he presses a hand against the base of his cock and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before grunting, “If you don’t want me to come, then you should probably stop talking about it.”

Derek is flushed and beautiful and his eyebrows have gone a bit sheepish. “Yeah, for me too.”

Stiles puts his full weight back on his own feet (and not the wall, or Derek) and looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Aannd, we now have 5 minutes left to register.”

“Then we better hurry.” Derek smirks at Stiles and grabs his hand to drag him to the elevator.

*******

The rest of the weekend was amazing. It turns out being the Sable Court representative meant they had to show up at a few seminars, make sure everyone knew they were there to represent the Sable Court, and attend the Banquet on Saturday night. No one made treaties with the Sable Court so there was very little politicking to be done. Every so often folks with grievances would try to get Derek to settle it between. Derek made a point of never giving a direct answer but he did keep note of a few situations that had the potential to blow up and made sure to pass that information on to whatever being was the equivalent of their Alpha.

Mostly, Stiles and Derek got to wander around a beautiful hotel, holding hands and reveling in just being together. The banquet had been the highlight of the weekend. Derek grumbled the whole time that he didn’t want to dance. But Stiles eventually convinced him, leading Derek onto the dance floor with a mischievous grin on his face.

Stiles proceeded to do the Macarena to every song that the string quartet played. Derek’s sour face barely lasted one song, by the end of the second song, he was laughing, By the end of the third song, he even had some of the other attendees who were around his age trying to get the pace of the Macarena right to match Liszt’s Angelus.

Derek pulled him close, laughter still in his voice, “You are ridiculous. Now you’ve got the whole place doing it, can we go?”

Stiles felt a pang of disappointment. He’d thought they were having fun. He quirks a half-smile at Derek. “Not having fun?”

Derek pressed a hard, quick kiss to Stiles’ lips. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? When you laugh, the joy in your scent is all I can focus on. I just want to slam you against some vertical surface and kiss you until it is as much a part of my scent as it is yours..”

Stiles’ eyes widened and yep, his whole body was on board with that idea. His voice cracked when tried to talk. Finally, he got out, “Yeah, that sounds like more fun than this. Let’s go do that.”

Later that night, after a good amount of very awesome making out, followed by two long, separate showers that would have taken all the hot water had they not been in a hotel, Stiles and Derek found themselves lying in bed together again. The heat from earlier in the evening has been banked and they are cuddled together, completely boneless.

Stiles is almost afraid to break the perfect atmosphere by speaking but he does. “You know I went and talked to Laura before her birthday dinner? I asked her whether there were specific werewolfy mating rituals. Or a specific way I should woo you.”

Derek looks at him, slightly horrified. “You didn’t!”

Stiles grins. “I did. I told it was her birthday present - that I was voluntarily letting her meddle.”

Now Derek looks worried for Stiles’ sanity. “What did she say?”

“I made her promise she would take the piss or get me to do something stupid before I asked her. She seemed to get that I was serious. She told me about this quote about mates that your Mom used to tell you.”

This time Derek smiled and recited from memory, “Each wolf is whole in itself but there are those who are created to walk beside in perfect harmony. A mate to write their name on your heart will make you safe by watching your back, give you peace by travelling beside you, bring you joy by smiling back at you, and join hands with you so will never be alone on your life journey,”

“Yeah, that. I started out thinking I was going to try to take that quote and prove to you that I am your mate, through wooing. But I realized there is no way that I would be able to convince you I am your mate, if I am not. Instead, I’ve realized that I want to tell you how you are my mate. From there, it is up to you where we go.”

Stiles swallows. “Derek Hale, I know that I am always safe with you. If we are in danger, I know you will be there, making sure that we both get out alive. You also make me feel safe sharing who I am with you. You’ve never made me feel bad about myself or how I was feeling. They say peace isn’t the lack of conflict but rather it is an inner quality that allows you to maintain equilibrium even in the midst of conflict. Now, equilibrium is not something I am much talented at. But with you by my side, I can find that calm. I can find my way out of calamitous thinking. You make me feel grounded. You’ve got a wicked sense of humor when you choose to let it out and you are the most fun to be goofy around because you’ll pretend to be annoyed but I know you really love it.”

Stiles stops for a moment, and takes Derek’s hand before he continues. “I know this isn’t really taking it slow when it comes to the feelings side of kissing and feelings but I want you to know, I think you are my mate. I hope one day you will decide that I am yours”

All of the sudden, there is a cat on their bed. It begins to grow and then transforms into a naked lady, just as it had at Laura’s birthday party.

Samaoth greets this with a hissed murmur, “Kind one, your obligation is fulfilled and your boon is granted.”

Stiles feels sick. Derek looks like he is about puke. Derek rasps out, “Not like this. I don’t want it like this. You can’t make him feel like this and then expect it to be okay.”

Samaoth arches one eyebrow. “Make him? I did not make him. This was a boon of revelation not a boon of creation. Maybe a slight nudge so that you were in a situation that would encourage you to share your feelings with each other. But the feelings themselves, they are yours, and yours alone.”

The pit in his stomach closed up and he was able to breathe again. But before Stiles could speak, Samaoth continued, “You know, not having to attend this thing was wonderful. Would you be willing to attend as my representative every year, Kind one?”

Derek appears to still be reeling, so Stiles answers. “Perhaps we leave it open for you invite us each year, while we retain the right to accept or refuse as we are able.”

Samaoth nods, “This is acceptable. Enjoy your mate, Kind one.” Samaoth then disappeared into thin air between one breath and the next.

Stiles and Derek look at each other. Derek finally speaks, “That was exhausting. Can we just go to sleep and talk about it tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Stiles kisses Derek’s forehead gently and then whispers, “Sweet dreams, Lover-wolf.”

*******

Traveling home was almost as exhausting as traveling to Seattle in the first place. But at least Roscoe was waiting for them instead of a taxi.

When they had both climbed in, Stiles tapped on the steering wheel a couple of times to relieve the nervous tension.

“We haven’t really talked much about what Samaoth said. I thought we might at least talk about what we wanted to tell the pack when we get home.”

Derek nods. “That’s a good idea.” He pauses. “I think I should go first.”

“Okay.”

Stiles is confused when Derek starts how he does but listens without interrupting. “Kate liked to play sexual games. She was always pushing me further than I wanted to go. I think Friday morning happened because you used your fingernails to wake me up. She used to scratch me, until I would bleed. She would start soft, almost tickling and gradually get harder and harder until I would beg her to stop. She would only stop if I did something for her, like go down on her or play with her nipples.”

Derek takes a deep breath in and out through his nose. “I thought I loved her. I thought she loved me. I thought that was just how sex was. I didn’t know how bad she was until it was too late. You know the rest of the story. But I think she really messed up how I think about feelings and kissing as we’ve been calling it. I think you’re right. I probably need to talk to a professional to get it all sorted out in my own head.”

Stiles nods and makes an encouraging noise because it seems like Derek isn’t done talking yet.

“I want that with you. I want the whole thing: mates, married, growing old together, everything. The feelings are there. But I think I also need time to work out my own head before we go any further than the kissing.”

When Derek looks up at Stiles, his eyes are pleading with Stiles, like there was anything other than yes that Stiles would say to all that. “Derek, I am here for you, however you need. As long as we can talk to each other, it will be okay. I can’t promise to always do or say the right thing but I want this too. I want this in a way that is healthy for you. And in the mean time, kissing you is no hardship.”

To demonstrate, and because he wanted to, Stiles leans forward and kisses Derek, once on the lips, once on the forehead, and then once on each cheek.

Stiles leans back, and asks, “What do you want to tell the pack?”

“The truth.”

*******

Everyone is gathered at the Hale house when they walk inside, hand in hand. Laura squeals and jumps up to hug them both as soon as she notices. Scott grins and gives Stiles a thumbs up while everyone else takes a moment to catch up.

They sit down together in one of the love seats, Derek on Stiles’ lap.

Lydia starts of the friendly interrogation. “I’d ask how it went but it appears to have gone very well.”

Stiles is grinning and Derek has a soft happy smile on his face. They look each other in the eyes and both say, “Yeah,” at the same time.

Laura throws and throw pillow at their heads. “Stop being so sappy and tell us all about it.”

Derek throws it back at his sister and Stiles starts to talk. “The conference was a conference. Nothing exciting there except, we kind of both decided that we are mates.”

The whole room erupts in shouts and wolf whistles.

Once they settle down, Stiles continues, “Samaoth doesn’t like to go so she used this as an excuse to get out of it and give Derek his boon. Apparently, we have always been each other’s mates and might have figured that out on our own eventually but Samaoth’s boon was one of revelation. The time alone together, along with a small nudge from her, helped us to be able realize our feelings for each other.”

“Congratulations, guys,” Boyd says when Stiles stops speaking. The rest of the pack echoes the sentiment.

Derek nudges Stiles, “Can you tell them the rest too?” Stiles startles slightly. “You want to share that part?

“Yeah. I don’t know that I can say it again but they’re pack. It’s safe.”

Stiles smiles, pride and happiness leaking out everywhere. “Part of us deciding what it means for us to be mates is that we decided to take it really slow. Derek shared some things about what Kate did to him that have messed up how he sees the physical aspect of relationships. He’s decided to talk to a professional about to get things straight in his own head. We’re still mates, we’re just taking it really slow.”

Derek stared at his shoes the whole time Stiles was talking. His embarrassment is bright on his cheeks and the rest of the pack must be able to smell it.

Laura stands up from her seat and kneels on the ground in front of Derek so she can look him in the eyes. “I am so proud of you. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. We all love you and want you to be happy.”

Erica yells from across the room. “What she said.”

Lydia replies, “I might have said it with more tact, but I agree too.”

Isaac, Boyd, Scott, and Jackson are quick to follow with their own reassurances.

There is a bit of awkward tension in the room like no one really knows what comes next, until Stiles declares, “It’s time for Frozen and a puppy pile.”

Derek smiles and says, “Yeah, that would be great.”

Three disney movies later, Stiles falls asleep with Derek sitting between his legs, back resting against Stiles’ chest. He’s never been so happy in all his life. Maybe he should be looking forward to his next oh shit moment.

The end.

#dearericbittle #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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casuallydeliciousphilosopher · 6 years ago

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sunrise & eyes - 🐺

Hey there nonnie! Part of me thinks that the wolf emoji is perhaps @thewollfgang ‘s secret code...my spidey senses are tingling...Is that you Wolfie?

Anyways lol, thank you so much for the ask whoever you may be!

Sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

Hmm...I guess if I had to pick the most impactful quote I’ve ever found it would be: “Do you understand the violence it took to become this gentle?” I can’t remember the source on that one, but damn, did it hit me like a freight train. I think this one really speaks to me because I didn’t have a particularly happy childhood, I’ve been put in countless situations where I’ve always had to be the ‘better’ person, and I’m not about to delve into years of trauma publicly, but there’s a lot of crap that I lived through that’s a lot heavier than I usually let people know. However, a close second that still speaks to me a lot is: “Art is not what I create, what I create is chaos.” said by my spirit animal, the bisexual disaster Halsey.

Eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

Oh God...do I even have five real-life friends??? Umm...well, #1 is obviously my partner Koby. #2 would be my best friend, Kattie. #3 would be my partner’s best friend, Jayla, who is eerily similar to me and she’s a fucking gem. #4 would be Jasper, one of the few friends I made in the Army who I still keep in contact with. And can #5 be my dog? Because I want #5 to be my dog. We would probably go to the coast, it’s only a few hour drive and the beach is just so universal. Do you want to go swimming, check. Do you want to have a bonfire, check. A picnic, check. There’s just a lot of stuff to do at the beach.

#anonymous #ask #tumblr games #thanks so much for the ask #:)

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dictionarywrites · 7 years ago

Text

Bargains & Rituals

Frostmaster. En Dwi is looking for his favourite little kitten, but Loki is just nowhere to be found, and En Dwi so hates to have to go looking for people.

Rated M. 3k. Warnings for manipulation & gaslighting, plus a little bit of dubious consent.

My Ao3 | Send requests | Tip jar!

En Dwi Gast hasn’t seen Loki, uh… All day. Which is fine. It’s fine, he supposes. But this… This is Sakaar. This is Sakaar, and it’s his planet, and it’s meant to be, ha, fun, and how is he supposed to have fun without Loki there? Not that he can’t have fun without Loki, of course, he’s not dependent on the guy – he’s just a pretty little flavour of the day-week-month thing, but…

Where is he?

En Dwi shifts his neck upon his shoulders, feeling the bones crack within him as his pupils disappear from his eyes, replaced by pure white. There are benefits to being, y’know, him. The Elders of the Universe each have their own talents, their own techniques, but they each have the very essence of the universe woven through their flesh, their blood, their bones, and that means magic? Ha. It’s easy. Child’s play. So easy it almost makes stuff boring…

Until you want something from it.

He doesn’t see it, exactly, but he tastes the knowledge on his tongue, feels it in his brain like a half-forgotten memory, and then he is moving, his eyes filtering back to something more akin to the stuff these idiots like to see. People look at him with fear as he passes, disguised behind frenetic smiles and desperate eyes, and he feels a bloom of self-satisfaction in his chest as he walks from the room.

And Loki… Ha. Well. He’ll deal with that when he comes to it.

It’s been days—

Hasn’t it? Time passes strangely on Sakaar. It might have been days, conceivably. Could even have been weeks! Or maybe just hours. But the point is, when En Dwi turned his head, looking for his little kitten, said kitten hadn’t been there, and that, ha, that rankles. That, uh, that bothers him. It takes En Dwi barely a thought, and he is no longer in the great palace of Sakaar: instead, he is… elsewhere. The use of dimensional transitways – that is to say, magical teleportation – isn’t really supported on Sakaar. Those that try are swiftly turned to dust and ozone on the air, because the magic is packed in too tightly, made to shred anybody that tries to pieces, so how the Hell Loki managed to get out here, well, En Dwi just doesn’t know.

He stares down at the little island from his place hovering far above it, and he turns his head, looking at the horizon. The main continent, where pretty much everything on his funny little planet goes on, isn’t even in sight. How the Hell had Loki come out here? There’s certainly no ship, or En Dwi would have seen it fly, and he couldn’t have swum out here…

En Dwi slowly descends to the beach of greying sand that is spattered with washed up debris, keeping his magic tightly packed into himself, to ensure he won’t be sensed. It’s best to get the jump on Loki, now, isn’t it? His little kitten sure can babble if you get him on the backfoot, and if he’s planning some kinda coup, some ridiculous revolution, well—

It’s not a melting offence. The guy is adorable, and if he didn’t keep En Dwi on his toes, he wouldn’t like him so much. But En Dwi would definitely have to… Tell him off. Maybe even with a little light torture. But, hey, that’s not personal – that’s just the rules, kitten, that’s just the way the cookie crumbles when you think of overthrowing Daddy and taking over his planet.

En Dwi’s feet do not touch the sand or the grass, instead hovering a few inches above it – gross, grass. He doesn’t want to touch that. Why would he want to touch grass when there’s, like, you know, carpet? This stuff is damp, and weird, and… Alive, and not in a sexy way. En Dwi hates plants. They’re so creepy. They don’t ever say anything, no matter how long you talk to them, and En Dwi isn’t stupid – he knows they can talk back, if they really want to, they’re just stuck in their own little world, looking just at other trees, and bushes, and… That kinda shit.

Lolo is sitting in a clearing, atop a circle of stone that he definitely made himself. He sits cross-legged, his hair (shit, it’s not greased back. Can En Dwi’s kitten really have hair that looks so nice, and fluffy?) tied up in a messy bun at the top of his head, a few strands hanging around his face. En Dwi, completely invisible, peers in to look at Loki’s face, and he feels himself gasp. Oh, oh, oh, his kitten really has been hiding stuff from him! Loki has sox candles before him, and is murmuring softly in an ancient language En Dwi could understand, if he really wanted to, but doesn’t see the point in focusing in on. Each candle has a different scent, herbs and spices melting down into the wax of them as the wick shortens and shortens, and Loki’s face is strangely illuminated by the flickering lights, and oh, that face…

Loki’s skin is as pale as marble, as it ever is, but he’s stripped away one of his fun little illusions, his little glamours: Loki’s mouth is a mess of twisting, gnarly pockmarks and tears, showing where the flesh beneath and above his lips was once ragged and torn, the scars raised and pink with the slightest tinge of blue, and Loki’s eyes—

Guess En Dwi isn’t the only one with tricks. Loki’s eyes are a milky white, with only the ghosts of blue irises remaining in place, and around his eyes, fusing his eyelids together, burning away from of his eyelashes and even raised up around his brows and the tops of his cheeks, there is more scarring. This isn’t like the rips and wretched bits around Loki’s lips, where a needle or a knife have bitten into the flesh, oh no: this is something completely different. Some liquid has spattered over his face, either molten metal or some kinda chemical, spitting pain around his eyes, and, ha, well, stars…

He’s so pretty.

Don’t get En Dwi wrong – nice, clean expanses of pale flesh are okay, and there’s a loveliness to spreading a guy out beneath who looks like a marble statue, but he’d been almost getting bored of Loki’s simple, handsome face, his hard angles, his clean, uninterrupted skin, but this? Scars? On his mouth, on his eyes? Jeeze, this is… This is personality right here. Loki’s palms are facing down to the circle of stone, his elbows rested on his knees and a magic spreading out from beneath his fingers, weaving its way through the seven lights, and En Dwi sees that there are scars on his lovely, slim little hands, too – there are shiny burn marks, and cuts, and even teeth marks on his right hand, and on Loki’s left hand, ooh, there’s even a little chunk of flesh missing from the meat of his heel. Loki’s scarred mouth is still moving, but the words he’s saying are barely more than a whisper, now, and when he finally stops, one by one, the candles start going out, or—

No. One candle goes out. Then two more in a pair, together, they go out. Another candle seems to be wanting to go out, straining to douse itself, but it then it comes back stronger than the others, flaring on the air.

Loki sighs, seemingly with relief, but then one candle goes out. Loki stares at it, his pupils suddenly visible on his eyes in complete colour, his expression a mask of grief and terror, and then En Dwi blows out another, and another—

Loki is on his feet, his hands clenched at his side, and fire crackles at the edges of the clearing, his mouth shifting, his jaw cracking as it widens, bearing teeth… “Oh, that’s so cool,” En Dwi murmurs, visible all at once, and he sees Loki’s indignant fury rapidly become fear as he moves back away from him. “Could you do that this whole time? So… Wolfy.”

“Grandmaster,” Loki exhales, falling back onto his ass in the grass, scrambling back from En Dwi on his hands and knees, and oh, oh, that just hurts! What, his kitten is so frightened of him? Ha. He probably should be. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“What’cha doing out here, honey? You’ve been gone weeks – I was getting worried.”

“It’s been four hours,” Loki says. Oh, shit, really? Hours, weeks – what’s the difference, really?

“You didn’t call,” the Grandmaster says, watching as the rest of the candles douse themselves, one by one. “You didn’t write. You didn’t even tell Topaz where you were going!”

“Yes, I did,” Loki breathes out, desperately. “Did you ask her?” The Grandmaster frowns, putting his hand on his chin. Did he ask Topaz? He doesn’t think he did. Ah, well. It’s hardly his fault Loki decided not to tell anybody where he was going. Loki looks at the Grandmaster like the Grandmaster kills people just for taking a break, and, well, okay, he’s done that before, and is definitely going to do it again, but… Not to Loki. “Grandmaster, I intended not to upset you, nor wound you, I merely needed some time to—”

“Time to what? Light candles? You can light candles at home.” It’s a little test, but when En Dwi says home, Loki doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t so much as twitch – he hasn’t been here all that long, but already Sakaar has imprinted on him, filled him to the brim with that desperate little desire to belong. Loki thinks of Sakaar, of En Dwi’s palace, as home, and he doesn’t even seem to realise.

“Too many people in the vicinity interfere with the spell,” Loki whispers, pitifully. En Dwi would almost feel bad for shocking him so badly if, uh, you know, he was into that whole guilt thing. En Dwi reaches out, touching at Loki’s cheek, which is as cold as stone (it always is), and despite the fear for his life (so adorable), Loki leans minutely into the tingling warmth of En Dwi’s ephemeral touch, looking up into En Dwi’s face as if his last act is gonna be giving En Dwi those lovely, blue eyes… En Dwi touches Loki’s mouth, tracing the rough, wretched marks of the scarring on either side of his lips, and Loki’s eyes close tightly – oh, that makes him flinch.

“What’s that, honey?” En Dwi asks in a soft, easy whisper. “You hid these from me, but they’re so handsome. What else are you keeping secret from me, huh?” Loki wrinkles his nose, disgust showing on his face, and oh, no, En Dwi doesn’t like that at all. He squeezes hard on Loki’s jaw, feeling the strong bone and muscle want to give way beneath the force of his strength, and Loki whimpers.

“Just kill me,” he says. “Don’t mock me, Grandmaster, please, just—"

“Kill you? Why would I do that?” En Dwi asks, and he lifts Loki up by his jaw alone, pinning him against one of these stupid little trees, and Loki tries to gasp and chokes on it when En Dwi grips his throat instead. It’s comically easy to lift Loki from the ground, his feet kicking for a second before they settle as if stood on solid ground and— Ugh, yeah, that little Skywalking trick again. It was silly of En Dwi to forget. “You’re my favourite, Loki. I don’t want, ha, I don’t want to kill you.” The look that comes into those pretty blue eyes is positively unthinkable, magical in their hope, and desperate desire – wherever the Hell Loki was before he was in Sakaar, it really did a number on him, because just a little bit of praise and Loki turns to putty in his hands, melting for En Dwi without so much as a look at the melting stick.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers.

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, honey,” En Dwi advises, his tone positively dripping with venom, and Loki bites down on one of those scarred and scattered lips of his, his teeth worrying a spread of thin skin and scar alike – that must hurt. “I love these little scars of yours. What, you don’t?”

“No, Grandmaster,” Loki murmurs.

“How’d you get ‘em?”

“I…” He can see the pretty little cogs in that brain turning, clicking against each other, grinding the gears and turning wheels, and then Loki seems to decide on truth: “They sewed my mouth shut.”

“Who did?”

“The dwarves of Svartalheim.”

“How come?”

“I tricked them.” Little Lolo can be so chatty when he wants to be, when he feels like it’ll get him somewhere, but that pretty little mouth of his has clamped shut like a steel trap, as if he’s scared the wrong truth will send En Dwi over the edge. But who knows? Maybe he’s right! En Dwi’s always known he can be a little bit predictable.

“And the eyes?” En Dwi pushes.

“At the end of the universe, there will be venom dripped into my eyes,” Loki says in a shaky tone.

“Ooh, those scars haven’t even happened yet, huh?” En Dwi asks, and then he chuckles, touching over a droplet of scar tissue at the top of Loki’s cheek. Divinities, they’ve got such weird little notions of destiny, all tangled up inside ‘em, and that means stuff like this – future wounds, that haven’t even happened yet, but they’re nursing all the same! “They’re very nice. Really add, ha, a little personality to that pretty face of yours. I love ‘em. You got more scars?” En Dwi’s hands are moving away from the column of Loki’s throat, now, instead sliding down to Loki’s hips, and he feels the young god trembling under his touch, his back pressed as tightly to the bark behind him as it can be. That is just— Delicious. “Under these leathers?”

“I don’t like my scars,” Loki says, slightly desperately.

“How come?” En Dwi asks. Elders don’t have scars. There’s a regenerative capability for his body that just, ha, doesn’t really allow for little blemishes and ugly bits, and it’s almost a shame – it’s so interesting, the stories scars bring out at parties, during orgies, even during executions! And here’s Loki, scarred from his pretty little head to his pretty little toes, and he doesn’t like them.

“They’re ugly,” Loki says.

“Nah,” En Dwi disagrees. “They’re stories.” That seems to throw Loki for a loop, hitting him hard in his twin sternums, and his eyes become far away for a few moments, as he digests that little nugget of wisdom. Oh, but Loki is just so pretty when he’s thinking, when he’s tired, and En Dwi has one more question, just one more, and then they’ll go home (home!) and he’ll take Loki to pieces in front of an audience, see if he can’t make Loki cry. He so loves it when Loki cries. The way he just rips to shreds, tears on his cheeks, his body shuddering, his mouth gasping: En Dwi’s only managed it once so far, but Loki had clutched at him for the rest of the night, as if he would die without En Dwi’s hand around his neck, and that neediness is just what En Dwi is in the mood for tonight. “What’s with the candles?”

“Merely a ritual,” Loki says, and En Dwi can see he is beginning to pull his confidence back together, attempting to gain control over the situation. “Such a paltry concern, dearest Grandmaster, pay it no heed – we ought to Sakaar—”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Loki,” En Dwi whispers, and Loki’s confidence shatters like glass. Ha! Such fun!

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, I know,” En Dwi says, laughing and patting Loki’s cheeks. “You’d never tell me what to do, would you?”

“No, sir.”

“You’d never try to, I dunno, lead a coup?” Loki’s pale face goes even paler, somehow, and En Dwi’s laugh is loud and resonant before he says, “Tell me what the candles were for.”

“They represent… Connections. The candlelight represents a life yet lived.”

“Six, huh,” En Dwi whispers, letting a little wounded upset pass into his tone. Is it real? Maybe a little bit. “Nine connections, and you haven’t mentioned one.”

“My children,” Loki whispers. Something catches in En Dwi’s chest, drying out his mouth.

“You got kids, huh?” he asks, his tone casual, and Loki nods his head slowly. “Two of the lights went out.”

“Yes,” Loki agrees. He says it sadly, quietly – mournfully. En Dwi hates it when people are sad. It’s just so… Selfish, you know? Brings down the mood. Even when he brings Loki to the brink of sobs and pushes him over, it’s just to see him shake apart, just to get him closer to embracing the pleasure En Dwi wants him to embrace, and this whole candle thing, ugh, it’s just a bummer. “Pray, Grandmaster,” Loki murmurs, and his hands touch against En Dwi’s shoulders, his fingers tracing over the soft fabric of the robes. “Allow me to please you tonight. An orgy cannot compare to me, when my devotion is assured.” Oh, he makes such promises, and his eyes are lit up with a smile, even as he tries to shove down all the hurt he’d shown before, all that nasty… Stuff.

“I don’t know,” En Dwi says, sounding unconvinced. “I’m not really in the mood…” Loki’s brows furrow, a little frustration showing in his eyes, but he doubles down, leaning to drag his scarred mouth over En Dwi’s neck, and oh, ooh, that’s a different sensation. Little bit rougher, little bit weirder…

“I am a shapeshifter,” Loki points out, softly. “I might take on a different form for you, whichever you would like, or I might, ah… You’ve always said you wished I would drink more, perhaps engage in some of your recreational, uh, chemical highs. We could try some together.” En Dwi feels triumph burst in his chest – see, this is what you get not forcing something, let it bubble beneath the surface, let your pretty little pets come up with ideas on their own.

En Dwi thinks of it, thinks of stringing Loki out on a cocktail of drugs, making his skin so sensitive he screams if you breathe on him, making him come twenty times over, making him see stars whenever he closes his eyes, making him desperate, hungry, for En Dwi’s body on his own, make it so that going without En Dwi’s touch is so painful it makes him wail.

“Okay,” En Dwi says, lowly, “but this is my night, Loki. This is you making this up to me. No saying no, or complaining if I ask something of you—”

“No, Grandmaster, never,” Loki says earnestly, and stars, isn’t he the prettiest, stupidest little thing you’ve ever seen? He just pours leverage into your lap like he needs to.

“Come on then, kitten,” En Dwi purrs, and he already thinks of the best way to tie Loki over a table, so that he can’t move, can’t touch himself, can only take the pleasure… Oh yes. Oh yes. “Let’s go home.” This time, as En Dwi slips his fingers into Loki’s own, something does show in Loki’s face, some almost-ghost of wanting to leave, but that’s all it is – a ghost. It is replaced by a mix of contentment and mild fear, just what the Grandmaster loves to see, and they begin to make their way back to Sakaar.

#frostmaster #Loki Laufeyson #en dwi gast #fanfic #dictionary writes #marvel

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 7 years ago

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Hey lovelies. Can you recommend any Sterek fics where Derek and Stiles have to have sex to magically break a spell, curse, make the pack stronger, or escape a tricky situation? I've already discovered and devoured your 'fuck or Die' tag and although awesome, that's not quite what I was looking for. Please continue to be excellent xx

ooooooh yes, I think I have a few links for you *cracks knuckles* -Emmy

The one that immediately came to mind is this series, which we may or may not have used in fuck or die, but I’m adding again cause I love it (and I do what I want ok???)

Making Love Our of Noting at All (Series) by silverlining99

(27,822 I Explicit I Complete) *sterek, dubcon, first time

Stuff makes them do it

Now on to other things which should also fir the bill (so much dubcon up in here, let that be an attraction of deterrent on a case by case basis)

The Beast Lies in Sleep by skyshadedblue

(755 I Explicit I Complete) *magic makes them do it, dubcon

Stiles takes Derek’s mark using an ancient ritual, thinking it’s the only way to bring back Derek’s ability to transform and save the pack. Instead, he’s unwittingly bound himself to Derek.

Did (K)Not Mean to End Up Like This (Or How Stiles Gets Cursed and Everything’s Fine) by redkislington

(1,414 I Explicit I Complete) *werewolf!Stiles, magic makes them do it

“Hey, Der-bear, my lovely bunch of sunshine, how’s it-”

“Stiles, what’s going on?”

Stiles was quiet for a few moments, before he sighed. “I, um… maybe kinda sorta might’ve pissed off a witch?”

If You Die the Little Death by tryslora

(2,505 I Explicit I Complete) *magic!Stiles, first time, magic makes them do it

There’s a potential magical trap… and Stiles trips it. Whoops. (Lucky for Derek, it’s all on video…)

The Perils of Fungi by the_deep_magic

(4,112 I Explicit I Complete) *sex pollen made them do it

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Derek says evenly, hoping Scott is too freaked out to sense that it’s at least two-thirds of a lie because Derek probably knows what this is and Stiles is probably going to be just fine, but poking purple mushrooms with sticks has consequences, dammit.

Like a Beast by Brego_Mellon_Nin

(5,120 I Explicit I Complete) *wolf derek, bestiality, magic/spell made them do it

“Um, what… Is that a real wolf? He isn’t… that isn’t a normal werewolf,” the boy stuttered, pulse hammering along.

Peter snorted, “The moron ran afoul of a witch and got himself cursed. She was a rather imaginative lady. Made it so he’d have to have wolfy sex in order to lift the curse. I think her exact words were ‘If you insist on behaving like a beast, I’m gonna make sure you have to fuck as one!’ Isn’t that about right, Derek?”

Derek glared as best he could, ears turned back and teeth showing.

Necessary or Sufficient by Saucery

(6,028 I Explicit I Complete) *captivity makes them do it, first time

Is it even possible for penises to develop Stockholm syndrome?

Prim(ordi)al by nameloc_ar_115

(6,106 I Explicit I Complete) *feral!derek, curses make them do it, first time

Derek was one of the most taciturn people Stiles had ever met, and yet, he was the one who found himself cursed after back-talking a witch. The universe really fucking hated Derek’s guts.

The Beast You’ve Made Me by MemeKon

(6,562 I Explicit I Complete) *dubcon, magic makes them do it, feral(ish)!derek

“Just stay still.” Derek says, almost snarling, teeth elongated into pointy fangs. “I can control it.”

Stiles shudders as Derek rests his face on his chest, clawed hands coming up to grip his sides; he can hear Derek’s agitated breathing, can feel the way he’s pressing Stiles harder, harder, against the wall.

“Sure, big guy,” he breathes out, tapping the fingers of his left hand on his own leg nervously, biting at his lip until the sensitive skin there feels sore, and the cold air coming through the open window makes his lips tingle, wet and abused.

God Damn Witch by sshp4ever

(6,566 I Explicit I Complete) *magic made them do it, dubcon

Stiles gets kidnapped by a witch. But does he really want the friendly neighborhood alpha to get involved? Licking ensues. Hints of dubious consent. Magic made them do it. Knotting. *This was just an excuse for porn, leave me alone!*

I’m Not Immune by moodwriter

(24,287 I Explicit I Complete) *kidnapping, magic makes them do it, mpreg, torture, dubcon

“Did they inject anything into you? You can hold me back. You can stop me. I can’t stop you.” Stiles is in full blown panic mode now.

The one where Stiles and Derek get kidnapped, and sex needs to happen for reasons.

Things That Can Be Used Against You by Mewenn

(39,692 I Explicit I WIP) *magic!Stiles, spells make them do it, first time

You gotta keep perspective on certain things.

So Stiles will stay in that circle and just lay back and think of Beacon Hills. Or something.

Five times Stiles and Derek have sex because magic says it is so and the one time it wasn’t for a spell. (and the three interludes where the adults wonders about what the hell their kids are doing and move the plot forward)

Tiny Houses by ohmyjetsabel

(77,138 I Explicit I Complete) *spells make them do it, mpreg, pack dynamics

“So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it.”

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timetogoawaynow · 7 years ago

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Melz meets Alexei SL with @MelzWithABite and @AWanderlustCur

Alexei meets Melz

Melz: *I was really starting to wonder why I'd come back. Okay, that wasn't completely true. I'd missed Brie terribly and felt horrible for leaving her for so long. She barely let me out of her sight these days and had taken to sleeping in my bed every night. For such a little girl, she had been through enough in her short life. I only hope I didn't do too much additional damage. So I let her stay attached to my hip as much as possible. I knew the break for Lark was welcome. At least I hoped it was. I wouldn't have to be a genius to pick up on how unhappy Lark was with me either. It had been completely selfish of me to be gone for as long as I was, but then, it hadn't been the human half’s decision at all. The guilt was still mine, even as now, my wolf chuffed derisively in my mind. Yet another problem I still had to deal with. I was terrified of repressing her, yet terrified of shifting again. Being constantly at war with myself was exhausting.

The fact that I'd come back because of the fanged threat was another unknown frustration, patrols yielding no additional evidence or information so that we were at a dead end there. And as if I didn't have enough to deal with, Lyric's update consisted of a bombshell wrapped up in a time bomb! Now, that wasn't exactly fair. I didn't begrudge him his happiness, but finding out we'd had squatting wolves in our territory for however long that I'd known nothing about didn't sit well, let alone another one that was apparently now staying with her. Plus the fact that he was engaged after a week to an Alpha’s daughter no less?! I was all for standing up to her father, honestly, because fuck that heavy handed alpha wolf bullshit, but talk about a blind side. Needless to say, my coping mechanisms at this point were basically nonexistent, but I was trying. Once I got a read on this second? Or was the the third? New wolf in my territory, I'd be able to try and make heads or tails of the situation. One thing at a time. Glancing at my phone, I rolled my eyes, exhaling a sigh. Of course he was late.*

Alexei: -When I’d gotten Austen’s text I’d been summoned by the Alpha of the area, I started to shove it off. I’d tried to avoid Austen and her little boyfriend as much as possible, staying at home while she was at work, out while she was home. We hadn’t gotten off on the best foot, and I was too damn tired of explaining my shit to people, least of all her. The more I thought about it, the more I was pissed at her dad for what he’d done. I was a fucking part of that pack, and on top of that, his family, and he just dumped me out like trash. Every day made it worse. It didn’t help I stayed mostly intoxicated, but it was better than being high. Heroine was expensive and I was almost broke, and add onto that it was illegal, and it was a step in the right direction. I bummed a ride to the address Austen gave me, not willing to stoop and ask for a ride, I looked down the long road and began to hoof it. I’d never dealt with a female alpha, and I didn’t know what to expect. I wasn’t warm and fuzzy with those types of personalities anyways, more a buck the rules kinda guy, sometimes just because I was bored, but I had to be good today. If she kicked me out of her territory, it could affect Austen and Brent, and I wasn’t that much of an ass. Brent had the gym and Austen her shop, and her boyfriend. I had no one. So it was just her and me and I planned on keeping it that way. I reached the barn door, pushing it open and stepping in, looking around. I smelled only her a while back, so it was really just a formality to check around for others, there were none, but her. Standing in the middle. I kept my distance, ‘bout ten feet, stuffing my hands in my jeans and staring for a moment, then bowing my head slightly- Alpha. Sorry I’m late. Like to make an entrance.

Melz: *Ooooof. Course. I mean, I wasn't expecting an ugly wolf. They really didn't exist. Besides, his cousin was gorgeous. But...damn. did he have to be...damn. Although...eyes narrowing slightly as the good looking loner entered the old been, my alpha senses tingling. Yeah, Alexei James was something more that he was trying really hard not to be, even if I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Some way back memory buried deep was trying to come to life, but I didn't know. Shaking my head before I looked like a comatose idiot, I kept my features blank, giving him a slow, assessing top to bottom once over.* Do you work at a distillery, or are you just doing your part to keep them in business? *Arching a brow, I gave a sniff before starting to make a slow circled walk around him. I hated this posturing bullshit, as anyone that knew me well knew, but I didn't know him. From the sound of things, his home pack didn't give much stock to females, so I didn't want him to think he could waltz in here and run roughshod over me. His uncle was already on my shit list for not only allowing two of his heirs to establish businesses in my territory without as much as a word to me, but because of his disgusting treatment of his own daughter. Yeah, that was one alpha I never wanted to meet for fear that I wouldn't care about containing my wolf in his presence, but I digress. Coming around to face Alexei once more, I met his eyes, held them for a long moment as I let the alpha power fill the air. It was a calculated risk to let my wolf this close to the surface, my eyes turning amber, but it was necessary.* I'm going to need you to be real honest with me about your reason for being on my territory. And what your plan is while you're here, if I decide to let you stay. *I knew Austen’s version of his “why", but I wanted the whole store from him and to see if it meshed with what she'd said.*

Alexei: -When she did her alpha thing, the one that made my wolf cower inside, I realized male alpha, female alpha, it didn’t matter. It was nothing to fuck with. That kind of dive bombed my first plan, which was charm her, but it looked like Austen had already dimed me. Princess must have been all ready to impress the new alpha that she just gave me up. Figured. Like father like daughter. Fine. I never needed anyone to stick up for me. I got myself in this shit, I’d get myself out.- How nice of you to notice my contribution to the fine establishments in your territory. I do my best to be an ass—et. And as the brat may have already told you, my pack put me in time out. So, I have nowhere else to go. Technically, I’m not supposed to have contact with any pack member, which means my family wants me to live under a fucking bridge for a year so I’ll learn not to be a fuckup. -I chuffed, looking down and shaking my head.- Thought I’d get a job, I’m pretty good with my hands, woodwork, maintenance shit. Make some money, get me a place so I don’t have to have the princess on my ass, and wait. -Boy, if I were me, I’d really want me in my territory. What happened to making a good impression? I laughed a bit, reaching up to rub the back of my neck- Look, if you want me to move on, I will. I'm not saying my pack was wrong about me. You asked for honesty, so that’s about as much as I can give you. Truth is… -and I’d been thinking this for days, and it just rubbed me the wrong way, sending me into the bottom of another bottle- I don’t think they’re gonna let me back in. So. It’s whatever. -I hated that alpha shit, that thing that made you spill your guts and not hide shit.- I don’t need a fucking therapist or your pitty, so if you’d ease up I’d really like to shut the fuck up now.

Melz: *I hadn't used my “Alphaness" like this, probably ever. My pack was my family by choice. We'd been through it all since before I was alpha. We'd each taken turns losing our shit, yet been there when we came back or needed a good slap across the face. We'd dealt with imposters before and come out stronger. Whatever had been set in motion, we'd handle it together. So exertion any sort of compulsion hadn't been thought until it had. Worth it though. His side of the story filled in a lot of the blanks Austen’s had left out. At least the picture I was painting in my head was...interesting. Filing certain details away for later, I snorted a laugh as he finished talking, reeling in whatever it was I was doing.* No, you definitely don’t need my pity. You've got plenty of your own. But when your party's over, the pack owns a garage if you're looking for something to do with those hands besides lift a bottle. If you can change an oil, I can give you a few shifts a week. Last thing I need is some drunk ass were going wolfy and attacking a tourist. At least your cousins have kept a low profile. I have a feeling that's not really your style. If you can pull your own weight, I'll give you a shot. *Standing legs shoulder length apart, I let an authoritative flair pulse the air before taking a step back.* Does that sound like something your poor abused ego can handle?

Alexei: Me? Pity myself? -I laughed out loud, shaking my head. It was only then that I took a long moment to really look at her, head to toe in a way she’d know I was looking. She was fucking gorgeous, in that take no shit way, that I am woman hear me roar thing that I loved. In other circumstances, I’d be all over it, but I’d never cower, and it seemed like that might put us at an impass- Woman, you are delusional. All that alpha shit’s gone to your head. You asked for the facts. I told them to you. -probably not the smartest thing to say, but dammit, I didn’t appreciate being called a whiner.- Thanks for the offer of a job, pretty big of you, but I don’t know a thing about cars, and I didn’t come here for charity. Maybe I like lifting a bottle. Maybe… -I smirked, tilting my head- it's exactly what I want to do. Seeing as I’m doing it, that’s probably accurate. So thanks for the offer, but I’m going to have to say no thanks. -I rocked back on my heels a bit, feeling her influence, but as soon as I got my bearings, which was much later than I had hoped, I gritted my teeth a moment and shrugged- Don’t sweat your tourists. I’m not a pup. Only thing they may be in danger of is being given incredible sex by yours truly. Don’t worry about my ego, either. It’s far from abused and going strong. -I wasn’t stupid enough to duck out of an alpha’s presence without being dismissed, but I sure didn’t have to take her ridicule. Insult on injury. I could just as easily move on, and would rather do so, than have her talk down to me like I was nothing.- So, like I said, if you want me to move on, just say the word and I’m fine. Austen and her boytoy will kiss your ass and call you queen. All one big, happy family. But if not, I’d like to get back to the bar I was enjoying and finish my evening. Cute little redhead gave me her number and I don’t want to miss the end of her shift.

Melz: *Oh. Hell no. I'd met a lot of dumb fucks in my day, but this one was at the top of the list. The more insults and disrespect he touted, the angrier I got. My wolf didn't care if he was baiting me in some type of fucked up bid to get himself killed. She was pissed enough about the lax way I let my own pack function, no way she was going to take it from some punk loner wolf who'd been expelled from their home pack already. Fuck no. Before the last word left his lips, I was on him. Sweeping his legs out from under him, I slammed him to the ground and came down on top of him. My growl rumbled through the room as my teeth sharpened, claws extended as I wrapped my partially shifted hand around his throat, deadly points resting just over his jugular. Leaning into his face, my eyes blazing with fury, my voice the gravelly bark of my wolf as I spoke.* The hard way it is. I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but this tough guy loner shit ain't going to get you nothing but killed. Now, it seems like that might be what you're looking for, but fuck you. I'm not that merciful. My pack pulls their fucking weight. You ain't my pack, but you're on my land. I already plan on having words with your uncle, but at least your cousins have contributed to the area with their businesses. I'll be damned if I'm going to start letting your uncle send his trash here too. *Chest heaving, spittle on my lips as my fangs rested there, I held his gaze for a long, long moment. He wasn't getting another shot at this. I would not be a doormat to some broken asshole. I had enough shit to deal with.* You have no idea who you're fucking with, Alexei James and you know nothing about my pack. No one kisses anyone ass around here. That pack hierarchy bullshit is for the birds. But we do respect the positions and work as a unit. I'm not offering you to join, so don't get your hopes up. I was willing to let you lie low for your year if you could follow two rules. Work. And don't be an asshole. Looks like you can't do either, so you've got to go. *I didn't need to justify myself or explain anything to him, but I wasn't going to take his shit. At. All. Pressing in my pin point nails just enough to break the skin, my nostrils flared when I scented his blood before climbing back to my feet. Back to him, I showed him exactly how little of a threat I considered him.* You have an hour to get the fuck out of my territory. I'd wish you luck, but I don't like lying, so fuck you, seems sufficient. *Walking deeper into the barn, I didn't check to see if he'd gone. If he didn't, I'd kill him.*

Alexei: -I’d feared for my life a few times, a few deals gone wrong, a few sunken escapades, but nothing like this. Nothing like her wolf right on me, in my face, and my life in her hands. She should have killed me. Part of me probably wanted her to. But the longer I lay on that barn floor, bleeding, shaking now, I realized a few things.

I had to make it right. My wolf demanded it, and something in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t let me be this person anymore. Shame rolled over me, and I rolled over onto my knees, my neck bared, my voice low- I’m sorry doesn’t even cover my disrespect. -I swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears. What kind of fucking man cries? So I sucked it up, kept my eyes to the ground, and continued- You’re right. About me. I had no right to act the way I did. Even offering my life wouldn’t do anything, because you have every right to take it. -I thought of my family, of my mother mostly, and my brothers, how devastated they’d be. How long had it been since I’d thought of anyone but myself? The tears came anyways, but I refused to acknowledge them, my wolf cowering before this alpha, as I begged for my life- Please. Give me another chance. I’ll work wherever you want me to. I’ll do whatever to say. I...don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m at your mercy, and I don’t deserve shit, but I’m asking. Please. -And that was all I could do. I had no other option. If she didn’t kill me, I’d be lucky. But I had to try. I hated what I’d become, and maybe, if I tried, maybe if I cared about my life a bit more, I could make all of this right.-

Melz: *If I was any other Alpha, I'd kill him right then and there. The groveling was nice, but didn't quite cut it. But I hated how black and white every other pack I'd known operated. Black or white. In or out. Live or die. With the paths Zoey, Jessy, Bray, Lyric and I had taken, we should all be dead or disowned. Had been over the years. If it weren't for that one chance we'd each gotten when we needed it most...I didn't owe this wolf anything. And I'd probably regret it, but I wasn't ready to take a life over it. My wolf would, of course, disagree, but I'd taken enough of them.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I raised a brow, not hating the sight of him on his knees begging. I stood for a long time in silence, making him sweat, suffer. Yeah, I was going to spare his life, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to make him pay for his mouth. Let him cower, wonder if these were the last seconds of his life.* Be at the garage at eight am. If you're late. You're gone. Bitch about the job? Finito. Slack off? Pack your bags. Basically if you o anything that pisses me off, take one step out of line, I will end you. *Turning to face him fully once more, I flashed my still elongated teeth, the growl in my voice returning.* Please, try me and think that I'm fucking around. I really hope that you do. Because underestimating me will be the last thing you do. *Long strides closed the distance between us as I shouldered past him and exited the barn. I hated the structure tucked at the back corner of my property. It was only for pack use, and we hardly used it. Without a backward glance, I made my way across the lawn toward the house. That was checked off for now. On to the next disaster on the list.*

Alexei: -I stayed on that barn floor, my arms covering my head, face to the ground for a long time. I didn’t know how long, really. Seems I found myself on my face more often than not these days. When it didn’t feel so shitty, I stood, wiping my face on my shirt and walking out to the road, pushing my thumb out and waited. A few people didn’t bother, but soon, a guy did, and I hopped in the back of the truck after giving him the address to the garage, and I was on my way.

I sleep outside the place, leaned up against the building, so there was no chance of being late. I was hungover as fuck, probably going through some withdrawals, but I stood when the man came to open the place and introduced myself. Respectfully. Weeks passed, and I toed the line so tight. Melz came in periodically, and we didn’t speak, but I was alright with that. Head down, work. Lyric didn’t speak to me either, and that was fine too. I wasn’t there for him. I was shit with cars, but I picked it up fast, gophering, too, and cleaning up the place after everyone left. Some days we’re on the clock. Some days I just came in because if I didn’t, I was gonna be at a bar, and I couldn’t do that right now. There was a small room up above the shop with a shower and stuff, and I stayed there. Nobody said anything, not Melz or Bray or Lyric, and I closed up, but I kept it free from my stuff just incase it became an issue I could just...find another place. Most nights, I fought my demons alone, going to bed early, picking up a few books from this used bookstore beside the place the guys liked to get lunch. Tonight, I pushed the broom across the room and sang a little Willie Nelson.- Maybe I...didn’t love you. Quite as often as I could have. -The acoustics in the garage were great, and singing always seemed to calm me down.- Maybe I...didn’t treat you. Quite as good as I should have. If I made you feel second best, girl I’m sorry I was blind. You were always on my miiiiiiind. You were always on my mind. -Another night in the books. Only a few more hours and I could sleep, making that a few more hours I had to come up with a good excuse to stay put.-

Melz: *I hadn't had high expectations at all for this Alexei guy, I had expected him to turn tail and run and never look back. Needless to say, I was shocked to get a text bright and early the next morning from Bray, asking what he was supposed to do with him. My “bitch work" reply seemed to be all he needed to know, which was fine by me. I had no qualms about him doing all the grunt work at the garage. When he showed up for a few consecutive days, proving that he was somewhat reliable I put him on the schedule. When he showed up for more time than those listed, I pinned a note to the board telling him that I was only paying him for the times he was scheduled. He wanted to keep showing up anyway, fine by me. It rankled that he'd started using the spare room above the garage without permission, but when I went up to remove his shit because of it, there was nothing to throw out the window. Sneaky jerk. Even so, I could tell over the next week that he was actually trying to keep his head down and his nose clean. I'd wait and see for how long.

Finishing up the billing on the 67 Chevy Lyric had just finished the restoration of, my brow furrowed as I heard a voice I never had join to tune pumping from the speakers. I thought I was the only one left. Shutting down my laptop and closing the safe, I let my curiosity take me to the back bay, where I propped my shoulder against the wall and listened. He had a really nice voice. It was a shame I couldn't say anything else positive about him.* Hey, Willie, you about done? I'm ready to lock up. Planning on squatting upstairs again tonight?

Alexei: -I stopped singing immediately, standing up straight, and the embarrassment in my chest was real. I just hoped it didn’t travel to my face. I looked over at my bag by the door, then back at the alpha, and shook my head- No ma’am. I’m almost done. -I held her stare for a moment, then went back to sweeping, doing it much quicker and making a pile before putting it in the dustpan and dumping it in the trash. I put the broom back where it went, walked over and grabbed my pack, and walked to the door. I’d gotten used to being invisible there, so it was odd when she spoke to me, and I didn’t want to take carte blanc and start a full fledged conversation if that wasn’t her intention. I knew a few shelters, but it was iffy if they had a bed this late. Guess I’d go and find out.- Have a good night. -I waved, pushing both arms in the pack and hoisting it on my back, pushing the door open carefully. I guessed I’d have to find a permanent place, seeing as she obviously minded that I stayed there. I could, in a month or so. That wasn’t long. Brent would let me in to the gym to shower, I think, and...it wouldn’t be too bad. I stopped outside the door as it closed behind me, putting the hood on my hoodie up and stuffing my hands in my pockets. Walking was good for my health-

Melz: *Brows raised as I watched him finish, I was surprised that none of his bravado from out first meeting came out. He didn't seem able to shut himself up before, now he might as well have been a mute. Could it be that sobriety made him meek? Standing back with the door held opened when he grabbed his back that looked like it held everything he owned, my brows now furrowed in confusion. I almost didn't ask. It was none of my business what.he did or where he stayed, except that it was if he was going to keep sneaking around, staying in the upstairs room like no one noticed. Calling after him as he began to cross the lot, I didn't chase him. He'd hear me.* Hey, I thought you were staying at your cousin's place? Why do you need to use the upstairs anyway?

Alexei: -I turned back, shocked a bit that she’d care where I stayed. My impression when I left the barn was that she was done with me, and even at work day in and day out, she didn’t seem to give me the time of day.- I can’t. She can throw a fit all she wants about being independent, but she’s pack, and I can’t associate. -I winced a bit, pointing at my healing black eye- Brent reminded me. -I waited, not sure what to do now, hanging onto the straps of my backpack- Do you need anything else? -part of me wanted to just ask to use the room, but it seemed I still had too much pride and a lot to learn. Maybe a few months sleeping outside would be...a character lesson, maybe that’s what I should call all this. A lesson in character.-

Melz: *Goddamn, this guy was something else. Too proud to ask for anything even when he had literally nothing else? Grinding my teeth, my mind warred with itself. If anyone knew broken and beaten and how it either caused lashing out or shutting down it was me. Hell, I should be the poster girl for building up brick walls encased in steel and topped with barbed wire. My own pride didn't want me to offer something he didn't ask for, but if I wanted to be different from the way other Alphas operated, I'd have to act like it. If I didn't help, it didn't seem like anyone would. He wasn't my pack, but he was connected to someone I now considered under my protection. Damn my penchant for adopting strays…

Blowing out a long sigh, I dropped my arms to my sides and unbleached my jaw.* Hey, asshole, if the pavement get too...pavementy, the room is yours. I pretty much was considering your unpaid shifts as covering your rent. Just don't go hooking up the ultra deluxe cable packet and we'll be straight. Or sleep on the street and prove absolutely nothing to no one but the fact that you're an idiot. It really won't phase me. *Hitting the key fob, I headed towards my Mercedes, cursing him out in my mind as I went.*

Alexei: -I stood still, just watching her, wondering where the punchline was. No one, no wolf, did anything for anyone like me. I��d realized that in the last few days. You were either working to benefit the pack or you were out. At the shop, I was working to benefit the pack, just not mine. Instead of a place, I was working for my life, my right to exist here. And that was fine. But this was...she owed me nothing. Before she got in her car, I spoke carefully- Thank you. -And I turned back toward the shop, heading inside to lock up. My hands were shaking, but I wouldn’t even acknowledge it. I simply climbed the stairs and put my stuff down, looking around. I took out my few pair of clothes I’d bought, setting them on the bed. I put “Stranger” by Albert Camus on the nightstand. I took a family photo and set it there too. Then I sat heavily on the bed and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t do this all the time. I didn’t want to be in my head. I wasn’t this person. I didn’t want to think anymore.

Shedding my jacket, I left it on the bed, with my shoes, and walked outside, jogging to the edge of the woods. I stripped, hid my clothes, and the shift had never felt so good. My wolf took over, and I immediately threw my head back and howled. Here, the loss of my pack was deepest. Here, I couldn’t hide. But I could run. So I did.-

Melz: *Shaking my head as he turned and walked back to the garage, I was surprised he even let me see that he was taking me up on the offer. Blowing out yet another exasperated breath, I climbed behind the wheel of my car, put the top down, and was off. Merging onto the highway, hair blowing in the wind, the howl of the wolf that carried on the breeze had my breath hitching. Eyes closing briefly, my heart ached for the pain that filled it. What was I going to do with this one?*

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exmachinus · 7 years ago

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WIP Wolves of Yellowstone Ch. 2 Preview

As per usual, this is the fault of @melissaknowsthings @solivar and @hhgggx, credit where credit is due.

In which Jesse is snuck up on, and finds himself accordingly pounced on, if you will.

Jesse was still unconvinced he wasn’t going insane.

The werewolf-slash-okami-slash-intruder that was actually real and inside his house AGAIN stared at him from the couch with the same vaguely-amused expression from that morning as Jesse sputtered. The stranger- Hanzo’s- expression didn’t change as Jesse felt behind himself for the chair near the door he’d just burst through twice in the span of a handful of minutes, and sat heavily, staring back at Hanzo, who was now calmly sipping grape soda and watching him in return. His legs were folded neatly underneath himself, both hands, one of his forearms bearing swirling intricate marks as gold as those under his eyes, sweeping across his cheekbones, holding the can with a kind of effortless dexterity Jesse knew only came from a life of using one’s hands.

“Okay-” Jesse started, pressing his hands together in front of his face. Best to take this slowly and carefully. The okami/werewolf/crazy-person-with-a-wolfy-home-invasion-fetish was armored, and could easily be armed. No surprises, slow and calm. Be ready to de-escalate the situation if it happens. But…

Too many odd things had happened in the past day or two for Jesse to let this go too quickly. If the intruder somehow had answers…

“Okay, okami. How do I know you aren’t some stalker wolf-enthusiast with a wig collection?” Jesse began again, quietly. “Prove I shouldn’t call the cops right now and get you back to the cosplayer convention you prolly strayed from.”

The intruder blinked, considered Jesse. “What is a cosplayer convention?”

Jesse sputtered again. “What do you- you mean you- Look, I’m not-”

“Is it like a party? A convention is like a party, is it not?”

“No, well, I guess, I’ve never been to one, but-”

“Then how do you think I am from a cosplayer convention, if you have never been to one?”

“I know people, okay, and-”

“Oh, I see, you think I am a furry of some variety.”

Jesse choked. “How th’ hell do you know what furries are, but not-”

Silver brows lifted, eyes flashing conspiratorial. “All kinds are drawn to the seclusion of the woods, it seems.”

Jesse couldn’t find anything to say to that. Couldn’t bring himself to consider how that concept could possibly affect his job and the amount of paperwork he could be facing if there really were furries gallivanting in the woods. Jesse ground the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.

“What the hell was that last night?”

The stran-Hanzo tipped his head to one side, taking another considering sip, wise eyes still amused. “You had seemed not un-receptive to my presence beforehand, I am surprised you grow so wary of me now.” A small smile pulled at the okami’s- Hanzo‘s- lips and his eyes glittered with mischief. “My apologies for the theatrics. I have been told one of my great flaws is a penchant for dramatics. My extended apologies for disturbing you.” A short, neat bow from the waist. “Nonetheless, it is flattering you thought of the encounter as a dream.” The smile grew, might have edged on becoming a smirk. Definitely a smirk. Jesse felt his neck and cheeks reddening with embarrassment the okami-Hanzo knew what kind of effect he had on Jesse. Fantastic.

“I still don’t know that you’re really a- what did you say you are?”

“Okami. A deity; in my case, of wolves.”

Jesse met his gaze, refusing to drop that yellow stare. “I stand by what I said before. Prove it.”

The stranger tipped his head slightly to one side, the motion slow and deliberate and inhuman, eyes endlessly dark and rich, as that same strange energy deepened and tingled along Jesse’s skin and said lightly, “My apologies for disrupting your device in the woods as you walked to your vehicle yesterday evening, my presence can have an adverse effect on technology. Also, now that I have you here, what was that song you were humming last night? It is from a film, is it not?”

Jesse sucked in a breath, the hair on the back of his neck going entirely on end again, feeling once again the strangeness of the woods as he walked yesterday, the feeling of being watched or followed, and how he’d felt watched all during the storm and the encounter last night, the same electricity that had run down his spine and fogged his mind that morning in the Visitor’s Center…

“My god. You’re telling the truth, aren’t you,” Jesse breathed. He faithfully ignored how his hand shook as he ran it backward through his hair.

The oka- Hanzo blinked at him again, suddenly serious. “I am.”

The sudden sound of a car door slamming made them both jump, and Jesse bolted upright out of his chair. He crossed the floor to the window in three long strides, and saw Fareeha Amari kicking the door to her jeep closed behind her, bags of what could only have been groceries sent from her mother on her arm.

Jesse groaned. “I thought she said she was going to be gone until Monday,” he growled, aware of how few seconds he had before Fareeha came in the door and saw his that tale from the night before was not as much of a dream as she had thought it was. He chewed on his lower lip and glanced back at Hanzo, the wolf god still watching him with that same innocuous expression and sipping his grape soda. Shit, shit, shit. Fareeha was going to lose all of her shit and her goddamn mind too and call the cops and the last thing Jesse needed was cops-

He opened the door enough to stand in it, one hand on the knob and one on the doorframe. He prayed to whatever deity might be listening, Hanzo or otherwise, that he could talk his way out of this one. He knew with absolute certainty he couldn’t physically stop her from coming in, despite having five inches and a good forty pounds on the woman. Fareeha had far too many blackbelts in far too many types of hand-to-hand combat to not be admitted in an immediate manner to wherever it was she wished to go, her five-foot-eight frame and clunky uniform generally doing an excellent job of belying her incredible athleticism.

Jesse dared another glance at Hanzo. “I guess if I ask you to disappear again, you won’t, will you.”

Another sip of soda, a sly smile. “I wish to meet your friend.”

Jesse glared as Fareeha climbed the steps and began chattering.

“Surprise! Turns out Ma is taking Rein to that spa in Denver he really loves so I’m off the hook for festivities and she instructed me to get everything on this list for you and to make you actually cook and eat it so apparently we’re going to actually using your kitchen so I really hope it’s clean for once and- what are you glaring at, Jesse McCree?” Fareeha asked with a smile as she mounted the stairs.

Jesse did his best to smile normally. “Nothin,’ the TV. Cable’s going in and out again.”

Fareeha paused on the last step, took in Jesse’s stance in the mostly-closed door with an unperturbed eye. “Jesse McCree, I have known you since you were a gross seventeen-year-old. Don’t think you’re keeping me and my gift of green organic plant matter out because you haven’t picked up your dirty boxers.” Jesse sweated a little.

“No, ‘Reeha, it’s not-” Just like that, a hand -had she grown another one, where the hell did it come from? - and a leg had insinuated themselves between Jesse and the door and he found himself suddenly and irresistibly simply moved aside.

“Look, Jesse, if there’s someone clutching the sheets in your room right now I’ll just drop these and come back later, maybe after shaking their hand, honestly, because-” Jesse reached out, grabbed her shoulder, tried to stop her, but she’d already stopped, was already staring. Jesse braced himself, cringed a glance at the couch-

And found a big white dog lying there, muzzle resting on his elegantly crossed forelegs. Probably sensing them looking, Hanzo opened his eyes and lifted his head, his tail picking up a slow benign wag. Jesse’s mouth fell open. That son of a-

“Oh,” Fareeha, a notorious lover of all things canine, breathed. Hanzo pushed himself up onto all four legs and shook himself, getting white hairs all over Jesse’s couch, then hopped down off the couch and paced across the room to sit at Jesse’s feet with an expansive and obviously completely-at-ease yawn.

Fareeha, her voice still soft and breathy with the kind of all-consuming love only dogs could inspire in her, said, “So, is this guy that same… animal?” She crouched and offered a hand, which Hanzo offered a polite perfunctory sniff and small lick. His eyes went half-closed as Fareeha began to rub and scratch behind his ears, obviously drinking in the attention.

Jesse coughed. “Uh, yeah, that is- He showed up this mornin’ outside, just hangin’ out with me and was acting very, uh, docile. I think those Fish and Wildlife people, um, put the collar on wrong because he was… showing signs of… mild distress about it. So, I took it off him and brought it home and… he followed me and, uh, he saw the open door and trotted in like he owned the place.” As he finished the thought, Jesse shot a short glare at Hanzo, who entirely missed it due to closed-eye reveling in the best chin scritches Fareeha could provide.

#wip wolves of Yellowstone #mchanzo #overwatch #okami hanzo

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oldschool-aye · 8 years ago

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I bet you don’t curse God

Chapter 2

The class went on as expected, apart from the fact that Scott and Stiles shared that english class with me. Other than the stares Scott sent me and the smile from Stiles, it was pretty comfortable and easy to adjust. What I dreaded was when the bell would ring and I would go to lunch. I planned on casually going to the bathroom as soon as the bell rang and sneaking away from Stiles and pack friends.That master plan was ruined very quickly.

*bell rings*

“I’m gon-”

“Hey Reign lets go get some lunch, you can meet the others.”

Ah fuck. Thats all i could think of.

“Actually I was gonna go-”

“Yeah Reign, meet everyone else.” This time it was Scott, he opened his mouth for the first time, but the way he stared at me warily didn’t change.

Well there’s no running now.

“Yeah okay, I’m starving anyways.” I smiled and the three of us were on our way. As we walked to the cafeteria we were met by a tall asian girl, a Kitsune. Damn this alpha seriously got a variety of friends in his pack.

“Hey Kira” Scott said happily as he smiled and held her hand.

Wow. Okay not just a Kitsune friends, but a Kitsune Girlfriend.

“Hey Scott,” she said kissing his cheek and then turned to me “Who’s this?”

“I’m Reign, Nice to meet you Kira? I’m assuming.”

“That’s me, You’re new right?”

“Uhuh, do I really stand out that much?” She laughed at my comment and just nodded as I smiled at her. During my whole interaction with Kira, Scott frowned. Okay man, I get I make your wolfy senses tingle but seriously you don’t have to hate me so much, damn, what was this kid’s problem. Do I look that much of a threat?

We got to the cafeteria and I met the others, three other girls, and three other boys. Great three more male werewolves, and two more female werewolves. And a Banshee? Even better. I seriously give this Alpha kid props for the diversity. And as expected all the werewolves look at me and either openly frown, look me up and down and/or furrow their brows in a knot. How many is that? Like 7 werewolves hating on me now? GREAT. I should’ve just ran for the bathroom when I had the chance.

“Hey guys, this is Reign. She’s new, from..?” Stiles swivelled around on his heels to point at me as he was finishing his sentence.

“Oh uhm, I’m from Louisiana, New Orleans.”

“New Orleans? Thats the city of the dead.” Says the very muscular boy, whose a lot taller than me, I think his name was Isaac.

“Yeah, that’s one thing that the city’s known for.” Then it got awkward.

The whole lunch was Stile’s, Kira and Lydia?, the Banshee girl talking and the others occasionally chipping in and laughing while still giving me cautious looks. I really could not wait till the day was over. And thank god for the rest of the day I only had one class with one of the werewolves and that was physics with Kira and Liam. This time before any of them could say anything I said I had to go and “unpack some more boxes and home” and I beelined for the parking lot. I swiftly zipped up my leather jacket and put on my helmet after gathering my long strands of blue black up into my helmet. Through my helmet I could see Scott with a few of the other werewolves and I started the engine and straight, got up out of there.

It got dark pretty fast as I danced around in my comfy home clothes, which consisted of only a big shirt and clean panties. With Bruno Mars playing on the speakers I tried to be as typical as a teenager can get. Hairbrush mic and all. It was fun, I liked being alone like this and being able to have not a care about how I look or people looking at me for my appearance. It was all good and fun until my sense told me something was wrong in the forest. My small studio apartment’s kitchen window overlooked a huge forest and I saw a wolves running about and the ones I met at school were being attacked.

“No, no. I’m not getting involved remember. This isn’t your business…Fuck!”

I ran out the door changing my appearance while doing so.

3rd POV

Her flowing black hair fluttering behind her, she sprinted with only her throwing knives on her thighs and two combats knives in hand. She sprinted into the fight, trying to protect those she recognised from school. With ease she threw her knives at all the bodies of Dread Doctors, ones that were surrounded by black evil in her rosé eyes. The wolves of Scott’s pack stopped and stared as her form moved. She finally came to a still and looked past Isaac and threw her last throwing knife straight past his ear into the throat of the last standing Dread Doctor.

Reign POV

Scott was first to speak after the silence.

“What are you?”

That was when I realised they saw my demon form as I was fighting. Fighting did that to me, my demon side took control as I killed my enemies. I never knew why but I’ve always assumed it was because I was killing and I near death. Humans couldn’t see it unless I willed them to but other non-human species, yeah, I’d be all open to them.

Wearing only a blood red, almost black bandeau matched with my natural latex looking black high waist short shorts. This attire was my ‘demon’ form clothes. My raven hair was dripping with blue fire, and Seraph was moving around on my skin on top of my shoulders wrapping around the base of my neck and collarbones. His head resting on my chest just above the valley between my breasts. My irises were probably a deep red as my whites turned onyx black. That was my demon form my inhuman genes blessed me with.

“What? Scott what are you talking about?” Stile’s questioned as everyone else was staring at me with wide eyes and confusion.

“He can’t see because his human and I haven’t willed him to see” I explained quickly looking at Scott.

“Stiles, look at me.” I said and stared at Stiles, willing him to see my true form.

“What the fuck is that?” Stiles shouted pointing to where Seraph was contently roaming about on my shoulders.

“Look I’ll explain everything but I think it might be best I explain indoors, somewhere no one else can come see. My apartments just in that building.” I calmly explained while nodding behind where Isaac and Scott stood. They all just looked at each other and gathered to talk while I stood there changing back to my normal self.

They were going back and forth with

“How can we trust her?”

“Well she did just save us Hayden.”

“Her name is Reign Lilin Valentine, emphasis on Lilin. Don’t you guys think thats kind of weird?”

“Oh come on Lydia, It’s a name.”

“You never know Isaac, you can never know when it comes to non-humans.”

“Look she just saved all our asses out there like it was nothing and she says she’ll explain everything, I say we give it a shot”

“Yeah but she has red and black eyes and fire hair and a tattoo that moves and she just invited us to her house, how can we know its not a trap to feed her snake tattoo or something or worse herself to feed?”

“Its not a trap, its a studio apartment, yeah I can hear you all. And if I wanted to ‘feed’ I would’t pick a bunch of teenagers which would be immediately out on the missing list.”

They all turned around and looked at me.

“You’ve got some major explaining to do.” Scott finally spat out.

“Okay well, It’s this way.”

Boy this should be fun.

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #OC character #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #malia tate #lydia martin #isaac lahey #corey bryant #kira yukimura #liam dunbar #hayden romero

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stereksecretsanta · 6 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, @outtoshatter!

A/N: My giftee’s requests were fluff, action, adventure, AUs, magic, and 5+1. What I offered were: single parents, daemons / familiars, tattoos, and military (which kinda became a police force, I don’t know). I only got 5 in here, there’s no +1, and I already cut out parts, but in the end, I still went waaaaaaaaay over the max words.

To my giftee, I hope you like it. I tried to smush together as much tropes as I could. *huggles*

Summary: Derek is a police officer, just recently moved to Beacon Hills, and possibly nursing a crush on the really hot, really powerful doctor with the twin sons.

Read on AO3

*****

Wild and Free

ONE.

“Beacon Hills is a hell of a lot smaller than NYC, but we’re not any less busy here. We’ve got the best arrest rate this side of the county and the best officers, i.e. me.” Erica grinned proudly, hands on her hips. “You’re lucky I’m showing you the ropes, newbie wolfie.”

Derek raised an amused eyebrow. Erica was young, passionate, and enthusiast ic… modest, too.

Isaac snorted, Boyd rolled his eyes, while Jordan chuckled.

“How can you be the best officer, Erica?” Isaac shot back. “We’re all new here.”

“I’ll be the best then,” Erica said confidently.

“And Erica, don’t call Captain Hale a newbie,” Jordan said. “He’s going to be Captain of your unit, and he’s new to town, but he’s not new to the job.”

Erica scoffed. “Same thing.”

Derek cleared his throat. “I’m not really worried about becoming bored, Erica. And I know better than to underestimate the crime rate in any town, big or small… or underestimate its capable officers.”

“Good to hear, Captain Newbie.” Erica patted him on the arm. “Now, let’s go!” She marched off, with Boyd following silently and Isaac continuing to harp on her.

“She’s not lacking in enthusiasm at least.” Jordan grinned as they followed at a more sedate pace. “I don’t even have to play tour guide anymore.”

Derek looked up at the sign: Beacon Hills Interspecies Memorial Hospital.

“You need to familiarize yourself with how the town works,” Erica said. “I know FAITH New York has a network of spies, but at good ole Beacon, a big part of our network is the hospital.” She dragged Derek in, unabashed in her excitement and strong even without using her werewolf strength.

Isaac grinned at Derek. “Fun fact: the hospital was built around a grove of Nemeton trees, one of the largest groves in the country.”

Derek followed along obediently. He liked Erica. Her exuberance was helping him put a lid on his nervousness. Isaac’s snark was amusing too. Add in Boyd’s silent demeanor, and Derek was feeling pretty good so far about his new unit.

FAITH was an interspecies organization established to monitor and police magical activity. Derek had worked for FAITH New York since he graduated police academy more than a decade ago and having to start over especially when he was already over thirty wasn’t easy.

“Welcome to Beacon Hills Memorial!” Erica motioned grandly towards the lobby.

Derek looked around, feeling the zing of magic in the air. He could see just what Isaac meant. An immense Nemeton was the centerpiece of the lobby reaching high up into the ceiling, which had strategic holes for the branches and leaves. Some of the low hanging branches were strung through with lights and signs, while a few select ones had dryads, avians, and a few fairies perched on them, talking to the attendants and medical staff below them or waiting for their appointments. The floor was a mix of tiles and forest floor, with pathways marked alongside some of the thick protruding tree roots.

Jordan waved a hand. “Like Erica said, it’s important we maintain a good relationship with the people here. We have a medical team back at HQ, but the experts here give us a lot of insights on our cases–”

“–not to mention how often we have to patch you all up after a hard day’s work.”

“Stiles!” Isaac and Erica exclaimed. Erica bodily threw herself on top of someone. Interestingly, the man didn’t even buckle under her force or weight. Boyd simply raised a hand in greeting.

“Hey, wolfies, what’s kicking?” He was dark-haired, brown-eyed, covered in moles, and had an upturned nose and a wide grin, decked out in a band t-shirt, black jeans, and obnoxious purple sneakers, topped off with a doctor’s coat.

“Your patients still are, you genius.” Erica grinned, hugging him around the waist.

Jordan motioned to the man. “Captain Derek Hale, this is Doctor Stiles Stilinski, Chief of Interspecies Medicine and Head Medical Liaison for FAITH–”

“And vice versa. It’s too long to say it all again,” Isaac said. “And note, it’s Doctor ‘redacted’ Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles looked to be around twenty-seven, maybe eight? For someone that young to be Chief of IM and a FAITH Liaison was really impressive.

“Redacted?” he asked instead. Stiles laughed.

“Because no one knows his first name, and he’s supposed to be all mysterious and a genius, even though everybody knows he’s a dork,” Erica said.

“It’s hard to pronounce, that’s all.” Stiles gave Derek a warm smile. “And Captain Hale, eh? I’ve heard about you.”

“I assume from Sheriff Stilinski. You must be his son, then.”

Sheriff Stilinski had been kind and welcoming to Derek. He was human, but exuded a certain aura that made Derek’s wolf stand to attention. Even Erica and Isaac kept themselves in check around him.

Stiles checked his watch. “Sorry I can’t give you the tour now, but I’m actually on my way to a consultation for a family of dwarves. Jordan will do a bang-up job anyway. I just came by to greet you because I sensed you guys were coming.”

Stiles glanced at Derek and Derek felt his wolf perk in attention.

Oh.

Apparently, Sheriff Stilinski’s son wasn’t human like his father.

“And of course, I have gifts for the new officers.” Stiles grinned and pulled out a few chocolate bars from his pocket.

Erica squealed and grabbed hers, placing a large kiss on the doctor’s cheek. Isaac grabbed the rest and handed them out. Boyd simply nodded in thanks.

“Thanks, Stiles,” Jordan said.

Derek took the one Isaac handed to him. “Um, thank you.”

Stiles grinned. “See you around, Captain. Hope the town treats you well.”

Derek reached forward to shake Stiles’ hand and was surprised when he felt a little jolt. Stiles didn’t react. He waved before turning the corner.

Derek’s wolf was still tilting its head in interest.

“That’s Stiles.” Erica already had one end of the treat unwrapped. “He’s a genius and I’m not saying that just because he’s my chocolate enabler.”

“We were all kind-of classmates back in high school,” Isaac explained. “But he only went there a few times a week to get credits. He was already taking classes at the college by then.”

Jordan nodded. “Stiles is pretty playful, but he’s an expert in his field. There’s a reason he’s Chief of IM and a FAITH Liaison.”

“I’ll keep an eye out then,” Derek said.

“Now, come on. I’ll introduce you to Mrs. McCall and all the other nurses,” Jordan said.

TWO.

“You okay, Captain?”

Derek looked up, one eye still swollen shut and forehead stinging. He wasn’t sure he wiped all the blood off, but by the look on the Sheriff’s face, he probably hadn’t.

“I’m good.” He grinned through a split lip. “Didn’t expect a duel to be my introduction to major county crimes though.”

John smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, well, if you’re still standing and you can still laugh about it, then you’ll be able to face everything else.” He looked a bit worse for wear himself. His left sleeve had blood on it and he was limping.

Nobody really got off scot-free after this mess. Derek had been doing paperwork when the call for backup came, and he was pretty thankful Erica, Isaac, and Boyd had already timed out and didn’t have to deal with this. Derek had experience under his belt. Those three were good, but still too new to get involved in a high-stakes duel.

“Dad!”

“Stiles.” John’s shoulder sagged immediately in relief.

Stiles approached, face serious and steps purposeful. He was wearing his doctor’s coat and purple sneakers. There was a heavy aura in the air around him, contained energy that made Derek’s wolf, tired though it was, twitch.

“I’m good and lucky, son. Nothing serious,” John said when Stiles lunged at him in a hug and checked him down for any serious injuries. After another squeeze, Stiles turned to Derek.

“Hey, Captain,” He paused. “Uh-oh, that doesn’t look good. Kira!”

Derek turned his head, lone eye sighting a petite woman in a similar white coat toting a large medical bag, and behind her was… was that an honest-to-god deer?

He was probably hallucinating.

Stiles knelt in front of him, staring at Derek’s other eye and the cut on his forehead.

“May I?” He waited until Derek grunted a yes. He pressed the tips of his fingers to Derek’s temple and a warm tingle went through him. “K, give me an anti-D and a red leaf.”

“Got it, boss-man,” Kira said, handing over a thumb-sized blue vial and a red leaf. The deer was taller than her and leaned its head on the top of hers, watching Derek with brown eyes.

Stiles stuck the leaf on Derek’s forehead and handed the vial over. “Drink this. It’s an antidote. It’ll stop the swelling and the bleeding.”

The vial was so small, but it felt like cold water flowed down Derek’s throat. He immediately felt pressure in his head ease.

“Thanks,” he sighed in relief.

“We need the leaf to soak up some,” Stiles said, smiling. “Give me five minutes then I can get to that.” He turned to John. He straightened, posture more formal than earlier.

“Sheriff Stilinski.”

John nodded, lip twitching. “Chief Stilinski, thanks for coming. I’ll keep it short.” He waved a hand at the warehouse, the lot of officers, and the suspects held behind a ring of mountain ash. “We got a tipoff a few days ago about a shipment of oxyhexfaro coming into town. We finally got a lead and a warrant to search the place, turns out we walked in on a suppliers’ auction.”

“Lucky and unlucky.” Stiles bit his lip, looking around.

“You’re telling me,” John said. “The initial ops team suffered the brunt of the duel. They managed to call backup before the whole mess escalated. We rounded up most of them, save for two that got away, the head of the operation and his right hand.”

“Aww. Damn,” Stiles muttered.

“We’ve got three officers seriously injured, but your first responders already took them to the hospital. Forensics is here, so aside from staying out of their way, you’re free to check on everyone.”

“Copy, thank you. We’ll coordinate with Danny. We’ll set up a debriefing after.” Stiles nodded. He clasped John’s forearm tight, one last show of affection, before returning to his professional demeanor. “Kira, get a 3-heat pack for the Sheriff’s hip, make him drink a bluebell to avoid infections, and wrap up anything bleeding, especially the arachne’s claws on his back – don’t think I didn’t see that, Sheriff.”

Kira nodded, pulling out a white heat pack. Derek watched in fascination as her fingers sparked and the pack slowly turned green. His wolf awoke and through red eyes, Derek could see the outline of a kitsune behind her form.

“Foxfire,” Kira suddenly said, smiling at him. “I’m a lightning kitsune. Wish we’d met under better conditions, Captain Hale. Welcome to Beacon Hills.” She immediately led the Sheriff to one side.

Derek nodded dazedly.

“Ok, let’s get you checked out, Captain.” Stiles turned back to him. Behind the doctor, the deer Derek had been hallucinating was still looking at him. “You got hit by a pretty nasty he–”

“Deer.”

Stiles paused. “Huh?”

It was probably better to admit it to the doctor. “I’m hallucinating.”

Stiles looked confused. “Hallucinating? That’s not a side effect of–” He noticed Derek’s gaze behind him. “Oh, you mean, that deer?” His face turned bashful. “Sorry, Cap. It’s been a while since I’ve met new people who don’t know her. Sira is a familiar.”

In response, the deer, doe actually, Sira, let out a snort.

Derek was a little stunned. He felt a bit guilty peeking at Stiles’ police file, but Erica had confirmed his suspicion that Stiles wasn’t human. Apparently he was a spark – a spark powerful enough to sense other people’s presence from miles away… and powerful enough to have a familiar.

Familiars were formed by those who had the ability to bind their magic into a corporeal form. They are sentient, though their full range of capabilities and intelligence depended largely on just how powerful their caster was. They served as companions and partners, but powerful casters also created familiars because they had too much magic to contain in their bodies alone.

While Derek was busy parsing that thought out, Stiles was getting to work. He pulled two more vials and replaced the red leaf on his forehead. He placed the other one in a bag.

“The red leaf is a reader, shows us what black magic hit you and keeps a record for both the hospital and FAITH. You got hit with a progressive curse. The first vial was a stabilizing agent, makes sure your system is working fine and stops blood loss, and these two will stop it from spreading and help you purge it. We’ll have to monitor you for either a spike in adrenaline or a fever. Don’t worry though. Everything I’m giving you is werewolf-friendly.”

Stiles spoke slowly, professional but warm and calming. Derek actually felt comforted as he drank down the medicine.

“Got it. Thank you, Chief.”

“Just Stiles is fine.” He grinned. “The rest are easy enough for your werewolf to heal. I’ll have someone load you into the ambulance, okay? And while you wait, Sira will keep you company, Derek.” He winked, making Derek chuckle.

He squeezed Derek’s shoulder and walked off to attend to the other officers. As he said, Sira walked up to Derek. The doe regarded Derek with a steely gaze before settling down close to him, folding her legs delicately under her.

It was bad manners to touch a familiar without permission, so Derek settled for a nod.

“Thank you.”

THREE.

Erica made a face at the body on the examination table. “Oh, god. The smell is nauseating.”

Boyd sighed. “It’s a troll, Erica. That’s kind of a given.”

Erica stuck her tongue out at him. “Boyd, you can be such a bi–”

“Cut the chatter,” Derek interrupted them before the squabbling could begin. “It won’t kill you all to be a bit more professional.”

Erica stuck her tongue out at Boyd, only to make a face when she realized the smell was putrid enough to taste.

“How come you aren’t gagging at the smell, Captain?” Danny, their FAITH forensics expert, asked from the other side of the troll.

“I’ve dealt with trolls back in New York,” Derek said. “You never get used to it, but once you smell it a dozen times, it doesn’t hit you as hard.”

Trolls were definitely quite a sight… and smell. Their skin was a coarse grey, thick as an animal’s hide, and they were tall, with long arms, and large yet agile feet. They have sharp eyes and ears, but close to no sense of smell, which was why they often lived in the oddest places. This one was about seven feet tall, with a hooked nose, and green splotches across his skin.

Isaac turned to Stiles. “And how come you aren’t… why am I even asking you? You probably have a not-smell spell.”

Stiles chuckled, snapping on a pair of gloves. “I don’t. I need to smell it as part of my examination. And hard to believe, but I’ve smelt worse.” From the corner of the room, Sira let out a whinny as if in agreement.

“No, you haven’t.” Erica moved behind Boyd despite their earlier tiff. “Because that is just awful. I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re such a baby,” Stiles said. “You’re lucky I always bring some candy.”

Some of them – Erica and Isaac – perked up. “Candy?”

“Not that kind of candy, though this is actually lemon-flavored.” Stiles motioned to Sira, who had the medical bag strapped to her back. “It’s a candy that dulls the senses for fifteen minutes. The lemon one dulls your sense of smell. It’s all-species friendly, so don’t worry about allergies.”

Isaac and Erica each took one… two. Derek pretended not to see. He and Boyd passed on.

Danny took one too. “This troll’s been stinking up the lab far too long.”

Stiles clapped his hands. “So Danny-boy, give us the lowdown on our unfortunate friend here.”

Danny handed him a file. “Found dead at the basement of a local brewery by the fae owner. Nobody even knew he was living there. We found traces of some kind of booster, but mixed in with everything he’d been taking, including the brew samples, we needed to do a lot of testing on his internal chemistry. Results don’t come in until Tuesday, but we thought you might have a clue what it could be. Save us some time.”

“Sorry to call you on your day off,” Derek added.

Stiles shrugged. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m used to it. My days off are never really days off.” He clapped his hands. “Ok then. Let’s see this. We’ll need a–” He paused and looked towards the door. Sira let out a huff.

Derek was immediately on alert, but when he turned around, someone was peeking through the round window on the door.

Stiles waved a hand. Derek smelled the ozone of magic before the partition curtain suddenly slid sideways on its own covering the body, just in time before someone pushed the door open.

In came a… stag.

After a beat, Derek realized it was another familiar mostly because he already knew Sira and the stag’s immense antlers couldn’t have possibly fit through the door or through the hallway if they weren’t magical. Sira let out a bellow, to which the stag responded.

Sitting on the stag’s back were two little boys, probably three or four years old. They were both dark, curly-haired, chubby-cheeked, and completely identical down to their and shirts, pants, and purple sneakers, save for the fact one had blue eyes and the other had brown eyes and dimples.

“Enzo! Levi! Hello, babies!” Erica squealed and ran to them.

“We’re not babies!” the brown-eyed boy whined, but accepted cheek kisses and nuzzles. The blue-eyed boy only poked Erica on the cheek and giggled.

“Hey, I didn’t know the kits were here,” Danny said, waving a hand. “Hey, boys.”

“Hi, Uncle Danny!” again, the brown eyed boy replied. Apparently his twin was the quieter one. “Hi, Uncle ‘Zac! Hi, Uncle Boyd! Hi…” he paused at Derek. “…erm, Mister.”

“That’s Captain Derek,” Stiles said. “You remember the new officer I mentioned?”

Both boys nodded and waved at Derek shyly. Derek waved back.

“Now.” Stiles had his arms crossed over his chest. “Boys, what did I say?”

The brown-eyed boy’s face scrunched up. “But it smelled.”

“That wasn’t my question,” Stiles said. “And instead of getting away from the smell, you decided to go see what it was?”

Both boys grinned widely.

Stiles sighed, but fondness radiated clearly. “Back to the waiting room, please. Sio, I expected you to be the mature one.”

The stag actually looked offended. He huffed.

“Go back please, or else we’re not going to the aquarium.”

“Can I come with them?” Erica immediately asked.

“To the aquarium or to the waiting room?” Stiles teased.

“Erica this is part of your training,” Derek sighed.

Erica whined. “But it smells. I don’t think the candy is working.”

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. At this rate, they were never going to finish this examination. “Fine. Go on then. But I expect you to be the one to get the results of the lab tests next week and do the report on that.”

“Fiiiine.” Erica waved a hand. She beamed at the boys. “Come on, kittens. Let’s go play and leave your Dada to his spellwork.”

“We’re not kittens, Auntie Erica,” was the last thing they heard before twins, stag, and woman left.

“You do know Erica’s going to bully Isaac to do that for her,” Boyd said.

Isaac protested. “Hey! I’m not going to do it for her!”

Derek ignored them and turned to Stiles, realization coming to him. “They’re your kids?”

It wasn’t as if Derek was actively thinking of asking Stiles out, but they’d seen each other a handful of times around town and in the field… and Derek… well, he had been interested. Stiles was interesting, funny, and incredibly intelligent. He was charismatic, charming, mysterious, and fun. And Derek never saw a ring or heard of a boyfriend or smelled a significant other.

But apparently, Stiles was off limits.

Stiles grinned, proud. “Yep, those two brats are mine.” He glanced at Derek. “Adopted, though.”

…maybe not so off limits then?

“We were on our way to the aquarium, but then you called me so…” Stiles trailed off.

There was a pause and Derek studiously ignored Danny’s smirk, Isaac’s intent gaze, or the fact that Boyd actually looked curious instead of his usual passiveness.

“Anyway, going back… Danny boy, let’s get back to this.” Stiles shook off the awkwardness. “I’d still wait for the results to be sure, but sure you want my opinion on this?”

Danny nodded. “Yes, please. Because we all know your best guess is more often than not an accurate one.”

Stiles nodded and got to work.

Derek watched him, thoughts whirling. He liked children and he had a good opinion of Stiles so far and it seemed, maybe, possibly, Stiles also thought well of him. It seemed Derek just had to adjust his plans a little.

FOUR.

“Living in the big city is fine and it took a while for me to make the decision,” Derek said, watching over the playground. “But my wolf and I have always preferred living somewhere quiet and smaller.”

“Why Beacon Hills, though?” Stiles asked, legs and purple sneakers bobbing up and down as he jiggled his leg. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you picked this place out of everywhere else,” he blushed lightly, which Derek adored, “But I’m surprised you found this off the map.”

“My family went on a road trip once and passed this place,” Derek said. “I always remembered it, and when I was thinking of where to go, this place came to mind. Guess I was drawn here.”

“Beacon Hills has a pretty good energy,” Stiles said. “And we’re pretty all-species friendly, so I’m glad you decided to stay here.” He scratched his nose, awkward and endearing all at the same time. At times like these, Derek saw the man underneath, not just the powerful and intelligent spark.

“So your family,” Stiles mused. “That’s your parents, two sets of grandparents, your six siblings, plus all your parents’ siblings and their families, and all your cousins and so on and so forth. That’s a lot.”

“Hence me moving away,” Derek said, chuckling.

There was a loud shout and they both turned to the playground immediately. It was fine though. Enzo was screeching as Sio chased him around. In comparison, Levi was in the sandbox making a sandcastle as Sira dozed on the grass nearby.

“My immediate family is smaller in comparison,” Stiles said. “Just me, my Dad, and those two kits.”

Stiles had opened up over the past few weeks they’d been seeing each other. Levi and Enzo were found by a fae scout team close to their borders when they were only a month old. The twins were left in a fruit crate with a letter that explained that the babies were ‘payment’ for some life debt the parents owed.

Derek had seen red at that, even his wolf had growled angrily.

The Fae Queen informed FAITH of the matter and an investigation was immediately launched. However the faes could not relinquish the children easily. They would never trade the life of innocent newborns for another, but they took life debts seriously. The parents’ offering, morbid as it was, had already evoked a magical barter. Unless another payment was provided equal to what was owed, not even the Queen could stop the magic from taking the twins’ lives. They had six months.

As a show of faith, the Queen allowed a Fae Friend – a non-fae with ties to the fae people– to guard the twins in the meantime. She chose Stiles, because if the man wasn’t already impressive enough, Stiles happened to be good friends with the Fae Queen – something that definitely boggled Derek’s mind, because how? – Stiles was also approved by FAITH – a doctor, affiliated with the police, lived at a secure neighborhood, and powerful enough to protect the children.

It became even more of a mess when, at three months old, the twins’ orientation manifested.

They weren’t just kids, but kits – twin kitsunes, a rare combination, which was probably why those horrible people taught they would be ‘suitable payment.’

The life debt, realizing how valuable they were, shortened the window to three months.

Stiles said that FAITH, the faes, and him had never found the parents – which Derek knew was a bold-faced lie, even though Stiles’ heartbeat and scent never once wavered – but they managed to find a way to pay the life debt with time to spare.

By the time the twins were five months old, Stiles had applied to be their legal guardian. Two months and an accelerated process later, Stiles had children – Dylan Levi and Tyler Enzo Stilinski.

“Enzo, get down from there!” Stiles called. Enzo was standing on tiptoes on Sio’s back, an arm threaded through the stag’s antlers and the other reaching for a succulent-looking, low-hanging fruit.

“Excuse me,” Stiles said to Derek, and walked off towards his mischievous son.

Derek watched Stiles help Enzo reach the fruit, mounting Sio’s back, and then lifting the toddler up to the tree. Derek stood up and decided to head over to the other Stilinski twin.

“Hello, Levi,” Derek said to the quieter, shyer twin. “Your sand castle looks lovely. May I join you?”

Levi looked up at him through curly locks. He looked unsure and Derek hesitated. He knew he tended to look rough and unfriendly, but he gave the boy a small smile. Levi looked at Sira, who let out a snort. He then turned to Derek and slowly nodded, even handing Derek a toy shovel as he sat down.

They worked side-by-side silently, adding towers to make Levi’s castle bigger. For a child, he had quite good engineering skills. Derek felt Stiles look their way and smelled the sweet dew of fondness. He kept his head down, embarrassed yet pleased.

Enzo’s voice rang out. “How come Levi’s playin’ with Cap’n Hale? I wan’ play too!”

Levi turned to his twin and made a motion with his hands. Enzo let out a whoop and wiggled until Stiles let him down. Enzo started crawling around on hands and knees, looking for whatever it was Levi signed at him.

Derek watched them curiously, but kept on working on the sand castle. He wasn’t quite sure if Levi was mute, but it was obvious that he preferred talking with his hands and face. It wasn’t ASL, because Derek knew that, so he wasn’t quite sure how the twins communicated, though they seemed to understand each other perfectly well, so did Stiles.

Stiles plopped down beside Levi and pressed a kiss atop his curly head. Levi beamed at his Da and waved his hand.

Stiles nodded at whatever that was. “Of course, kid.”

Suddenly, there was a howl and then a loud, distressed cry.

Derek whipped around, a growl of his own already forming.

There was a werewolf stalking out from the tree line.

And he was bloody.

He was stumbling fast on unsteady steps, dripping blood from head to toe, headed right for Enzo seated on the grass. The stranger howled again, making Enzo cry.

“Enzo!” Stiles stumbled to his feet. “Sio, get Enzo!”

Derek was instantly in motion, rushing towards the approaching stranger. Thankfully, Sio was fast, easily approaching the frozen and wide-eyed kit and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before retreating to safety. Derek cast a passing glance at the kit dangling from the stag’s snout and ran straight for the other werewolf. He pressed the emergency button on the walkie-talkie he kept with him at all times.

“Stiles, go and get help!”

Derek recognized the man, light hair, broad shouldered, and a cleft chin. This was one of the two men that got away during the oxyhexfaro bust months ago – Carson, the righthand man. His business had collapsed following the bust and he had been on the run since. All nearby counties had been on alert, but FAITH certainly didn’t expect him to come back here to Beacon Hills where he had the most chances of being captured.

Derek faced Carson. The wolf seemed to be bleeding from multiple cuts all over his body, one eye was swollen shut, and he didn’t even have all his claws in his hands and feet. His eyes looked crazed and a fine tremor was running through his entire body. A sniff of the air gave Derek the scent of slowly burning flesh, as well as the sharp, underlying stench of drugs.

Derek wasn’t sure which end the wolf was tilting towards; if the wolf had hurt himself in his… Withdrawal? Overdose?

“Carson, my name is Captain Derek Hale of FAITH,” Derek spoke slowly, raising his arms, no claws out, nonthreatening. “Do you require assistance?”

Carson growled and dropped on all fours. Derek hesitated. As far as their information went, Carson couldn’t do a full-alpha shift, but considering the man was drugged, he was unpredictable.

Carson didn’t attack though. He switched between whining and growling, shaking his head from side to side.

“Carson, can you talk? Can you understand me?” Derek tried to get through to him. “If you can understand me, I need you to look at me right now.”

Carson trembled. After a minute, he raised his head at Derek. He looked at Derek with a red eye full of… fear.

“…help …me …”

“Okay, okay.” Derek stepped forward. “Carson, I can–”

The next thing Derek knew, Carson was barreling straight for him.

Instinct took over and Derek let out his wolf’s half-shift. He stepped back just in time to avoid Carson’s claws, but before he could blink, the wolf managed to get a swipe at Derek’s shoulder. Derek roared and swung his arm, managing to graze the man’s face. Carson jumped back, hissing and spitting.

Derek rolled his shoulder. It was a shallow cut, but damn the man was fast and he seemed far stronger than their information on him suggested. If Derek had to guess, the drugs were taking effect.

Before Derek could figure out how to stop him, Carson’s movements suddenly stopped.

Derek looked up and Stiles was there. He had his arms out, a rope of violet magic around one arm leading right for Carson, wrapped around the werewolf’s jaws, around his arms, waist, and legs to hold him back. Stiles tugged and Carson stepped back, roaring but unable to move. Stiles held out his free hand, palm out, and when his fingers curled into a fist, Carson dropped into a ball, the ropes of magic wrapping around him like a cocoon.

Derek stumbled back, taking a deep breath. He glanced at Stiles, who looked back worriedly, looking Derek over for injuries. Derek was relieved this hadn’t led to a full-fledged fight.

“What happened to him?”

“As of now, I’m not sure.” Stiles slowly edged towards the bound wolf. “Possible overdose, but we still don’t know why he’s bleed–”

Stiles paused and Derek let out a shout when Stiles suddenly cried out, falling to his knees, a rope of deep green magic appearing around his neck. Before Derek could help him, Derek felt the sizzle of magic so strong it made his wolf howl.

He remembered now. Two escaped that police bust, Carson and the other one was… Merle, the leader, a warlock.

Derek turned. Merle was behind them. He had long, dark hair and a hooked nose. Similar to Carson, he was almost as bloody, but the difference was that Merle didn’t smell as strongly of drugs and the blood Merle was covered with wasn’t his, but Carson’s.

Merle had his arms out towards Stiles, the tattoos on his arms flashing a deep green. “Give me back my wolf, spark,” he hissed, eyes flashing and hair standing on end. “It’s mine.”

“You used drugs and blood magic on him!” Stiles growled in anger, but the green magic held fast. “He’s a person, you sicko!”

Merle scoffed and made to reply, until his eyes landed on Derek.

“I know you… Captain Hale of FAITH…” he said, voice grating and tilting his head to the side. His face broke into a wide, maniacal grin. “I think… maybe… you’d make a better subject.”

He swung a hand and next thing Derek knew, a similar rope of green was wrapped around his neck. He cried out. He now knew how Stiles felt, because it seemed like he had on a collar of nails.

Merle glanced at Carson who remained crumpled on the ground, eyes glazed, and wheezing with every breath.

“I don’t need that useless thing anymore.” Merle’s eyes flashed, and Stiles screamed as Carson’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell, unmoving.

Stiles stood up, the magic around his neck and Derek’s splintering like glass. He swung a fist in the air, sending something like sharp violet lightning shooting off. Merle was caught in the arm and he screeched something unholy. Stiles swung his other fist, but Merle countered, sending green spikes flying at Stiles. The next thing he and Derek knew, Sio had appeared, acting as a barrier. Merle’s magic shattered as it hit the stag’s skin, not even leaving a mark.

“Sio!” Derek looked back. Sira was standing far away but still in sight, and he could easily pick out two tiny kits on the doe’s back.

Stiles’ face paled in fear. “Sira! Get back!”

Merle followed their line of sight, but before he could see the kits, Derek growled and ran right for him. The warlock noticed him, but before he could attack, Sio seized the opportunity and also charged, antlers pointed right at the man. Stiles waved his arms, trapping Merle’s arms against his sides, making the warlock scream bloody murder.

Derek punched him right on the chest and Sio swung his great head, antlers clipping Merle’s side and sending him sailing to the trees. Merle was crafty though and the man spun a rope, lassoing Derek’s arm and pulling him along. He cackled loudly and sunk green claws into Derek’s arm. Derek was jarred even more by the impact they made against a tree.

“Derek!”

Stiles was suddenly there, physically wresting Merle off of Derek. Before Derek could help, Merle sunk the claws of his other hand into Stiles’ left side.

“Stiles!”

Sio roared and charged.

Derek was an Alpha too, but while it wasn’t a secret, not many people knew he could do a full-alpha wolf shift. Guess now was the time. Derek left his wolf out completely and felt the shift envelop him, skin covered by fur, limbs cracking and lengthening, face morphing.

Between an Alpha wolf, and an angry, overprotective stag, the warlock didn’t stand a chance.

FIVE.

So apparently, Sio and Sira weren’t Stiles’ familiars.

Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders as they leaned back on the porch swing. It had been a few days since the attack and the frenzy had finally died down. Stiles felt it was time to let Derek in on the family secret.

“Remember when you asked me about the deer? And I said Sira was a familiar. I never said she was mine.” Stiles chuckled, leaning against Derek’s chest. “I’m not that powerful, to be honest. My spark’s not bad, but I consider my brains my real superpower.”

He tangled the fingers of one hand with one of Derek’s, playing with them idly. “I don’t know who’s whose. After I adopted the kits, the familiars just appeared and one of them started following me around, probably as protection or to watch over me. People started talking, said my spark must’ve evolved or something when I became a Dad, just rumors and stuff like that. My Dad and I thought it was better than to reveal just how much potential the kits had.”

“Not to mention it’s a good boost for someone’s reputation,” Derek teased, poking Stiles at his ticklish side and sending the doctor flailing about like a fish.

Derek laughed. Stiles pouted, but accepted Derek’s soft kiss. It stretched on for a time, close-mouthed, warm, and sweet in a way Derek had never been with another person. He felt the curve of Stiles’ grin against his and pressed one more chaste kiss before pulling back. Stiles smiled at him, eyes bright and face flushed and Derek had never felt more at peace and in love.

“Everybody decent out there?”

“Dad, you’re embarrassing me,” Stiles whined.

“You do enough of that yourself, dear,” Derek said. Stiles turned to him with a harrumph and lunged, trying to tickle Derek.

John stepped out, only to sigh. “Oh, stop it, you two. We’re back from the store.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But, er… We picked up something along the way.”

Stiles groaned. “Daaad, did you get the kits the sweet cereal again?” He tugged at Derek’s hand and tangled their fingers easily as they followed John inside. “You know Melissa told us we need to cut… down… Oh my god!”

Gathered in the living room were two, trouble-making kitsunes and what was supposed to be two, but now were three deers. Levi and Enzo were hiding behind Sio and Sira, their stubby kitsune tails fanning out and twitching like they knew they were in trouble. A third deer was curled up beside them. At a glance, Derek saw she was shorter and slimmer than the other two.

“Kits! You made another familiar?” Stiles gaped. “Wha– How– You–”

John sat down on his chair, sighing. “She knocked on the car window, almost gave me a heart attack and almost tilted the pickup over with three darn deers squeezed in at the back.”

Stiles kept gaping at his sons while Derek just grinned.

“Think of how in awe everyone will be that apparently you have three–”

Stiles covered his mouth with a palm and glared lightly at him.

“Sona.”

Derek froze and he felt Stiles did too. John looked intrigued. Derek turned to Levi. Levi was looking right at him, not at his father or grandfather.

Stiles kept digging a pointy elbow at Derek’s side. Derek pinched his hip before crouching down in front of the kit.

“Is that her name, Levi?”

Levi nodded. Despite his silence, his voice wasn’t grating or rough from disuse, but his was softer and quieter than Enzo’s exuberant tone.

“Sona, hello.” Derek waved a hand at the deer, who nodded her head with a soft cry. “Now, you and Enzo and your Da can have one of each.”

Levi and Enzo giggled, sounds so sweet that Derek immediately committed them to memory.

“Sona is ours!” Enzo said.

“So Sio is yours,” Levi added.

Derek felt like the breath was taken out of his lungs. “W-What do you mean?”

Stiles fell to his knees beside Derek. He made a motion with his hands, to which Levi replied with some hand-waving of his own before pointing a finger around.

“Sira for Dada. Sona for me, Zo and Grampa. And Sio for Derek.” He paused, suddenly looking at Derek nervously. “…Right?”

And Derek knew what that meant, the gravity of the question a child was asking – if Derek was here to stay, if he was going to accept this incredibly generous and personal gift, if he cared about them all enough to stay forever…

The other two Stilinskis waited on Derek with bated breath.

Derek reached out and Levi trustfully lifted his arms for Derek to pick him up and cuddle him on his lap.

“That would be perfect.”

Levi smiled, so did Enzo who immediately scrambled up to squeeze himself onto Derek’s lap too. Derek fell back, but Stiles was there, arms wrapping around all three of them and pressing a kiss to Derek’s mouth. His eyes were bright and his smile was almost bursting.

“Well, then. Welcome to the family, Captain.” John grinned, pleased.

Derek pressed a kiss to the kits’ heads and one on Stiles’ cheek.

A spark, twins, and three deers – moving here was the best decision he had ever made in his life.

#outtoshatter #stereksanta18 #*fic18 #*gifts18

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