#teen wolf ficlet

[outtoshatter]

Casual

For @twistedamusement

They both agreed they could—wanted to—keep it casual. It became almost a game to see who could stay the most casual, no matter what they did, what they felt. Derek casually sealed their first kiss. Stiles casually pulled him into bed the first time. Breathing hard, staring at the ceiling with stars in his eyes, Derek asked, "Wanna do that again?" Casually, of course. Stiles rolled on top of him and playfully bit at his chest. "You up for it, big guy?" Days and nights and weeks later, Stiles casually cooked dinner for them both, and Derek made breakfast. Spare toothbrushes were added to each bathroom without fanfare. Early one morning, still pleasantly buzzing from the night before, Derek crept to the kitchen, digging in the bag he'd left on the counter. Stiles was still asleep, arm flung across the bed onto Derek's side. Derek set the key casually in his upturned palm, then quietly dressed for work. His phone was silent all day. When he returned home, there were sneakers by the door, three hoodies in the coat closet, and a note on the fridge: Went to get dinner -S He smiled. Stiles moved his things in and a year later, casually sent Derek listing for bigger places, closer to both of their jobs. They found a larger house, one with a yard and a reading nook for Derek and an office space for Stiles. "I love you," Derek said, casually of course. Stiles kissed him, hands at his waist, nearly sweeping him off his feet. "I love you, too." Just as casual. Six months, hundreds of boxed and gallons of paint later, Derek woke to the scent of bacon and waffles wafting into the room from downstairs. A black velvet box sat casually on his chest.

Also on ao3 🔒

[6ft-under-beacon-hills]

𝟮𝟬/𝟮𝟬 𝗩𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 — 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗸 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘁

From this voting post to this ficlet. I hope you'll enjoy it!

summary: Due to a series of unfortunate events, Derek temporarily loses his werewolves ability... which apparently includes 20/20 vision. Let's just say Derek has Stiles' attention in a different light now (not that he's aware about it anyway). tags: attempt at humour, canon-typical sterek banters, canon-typical description of violence (mild), 'unfortunate events' are not specified/describe, au setting but sort of close to canon, not beta read

Nobody really realised it. Not even Derek himself.

It first started when Deaton, displaying the usual cryptic persona, held out a small, opaque jar to Derek. He said that the only way to confirm it is by testing it out. But his opinion was beginning to cement itself when Derek had to squint to read the faded label when typically even the slightest scent of it should have been enough for any were-beings to know the jar contained Mountain Ash. (What they confirmed that night was that Derek was no longer a supernatural as he could easily hold a handful of Mountain Ash on his palm).

The second time it happened was when Scott unrolled a blueprint on the table, the details of the structure neatly written on the corners of the pages, it was small but it was readable. Everyone gathered around it, taking turns to rotate the paper to their direction. Derek, however, leaned in, lower than when Stiles wanted to take in all the information on it, and when that was not enough, he took the blueprints and lifted it up to his face – scanning the entire page inches away from his nose.

The pack started to suspect it then.

Scott with all his gentleness and concern was the one who voiced it out. "Is everything okay, Derek?"

Well, not the way Stiles would've said it but this was Scott. He beats around the bushes sometimes, starts a conversation with a question.

"Yeah." Derek grunted, throwing the blueprint back onto the table. And that's the thing with question, often time, people don't give a truthful answer.

Then they went on with planning as if Derek hadn't practically kiss the blueprint paper. Stiles kept his eyes on Derek the entire night.

And the day after, and after, and after.

So almost a week after the shocking revelation that Derek lost his supernatural abilities, Stiles noted a few things about normal-Derek. As normal as Derek could be, that is.

Things like, how Derek flinches when there was a sudden noise (typically Peter's obnoxious laughter), or how he would sigh in frustration when something was too heavy to be easily carried the first time (he'd still managed to carry it though, that muscle-headed beast), or how he would squint at anything he decided to focus on if it was a certain distance from him (probably because he refused another display of grabbing something so close to his face).

The fact that this had gone on for almost week was hilarious. How did anyone not notice it? Or maybe they noticed it but decided leave him be? Derek does have a habit of grabbing someone by the collar and threatening them. Stiles doubted that any of his usual 'rip your throat with my teeth' would hold any actual scariness but he also valued his life not to bring it up carelessly himself.

Stiles strategised. He always does. He chose a day where the pack had a meeting, chose time frame just after work and before the meeting, chose a location where it was public enough to ensure Derek does not misbehave but the two would still have their treasured privacy. It worked wonders, by the way, and for a split second he allowed himself to silently bask in the glory of 'people should listen to me more because my plan always works'. Who was he kidding, he took his head out of his ass and attend to the matters at hand – a grumpy Derek, unable to threaten Stiles or deter away the conversation, thus ultimately admitting that he, in fact, can't see well.

And who is Stiles if he's not prepared, right?

He slid a rectangular black box towards Derek, who rolled his eyes at the item.

"I don't need that."

"Yes. Yes, you do." Stiles was not one to give up. "Have you seen how you look just now? Trying to read the menu like it was a Mathematical problem? Who reads with that much squinting power and scowling?"

A low growl came from Derek's throat.

Stiles went rigid. Well, good to know he can still do that.

"Just wear it okay." Stiles sighed. "Since when are you the advocate of fashion and styles, anyway. Think of it this way; What if Scott needs some help but you can't clearly see which one is Scott and which one is the enemy? You ended up, oh I don't know, shooting Scott???"

That seemed to convince him.

"Fine." Derek grunted. He took the box, unexpectedly gentle with it as he carefully close it back once he took out the glasses. He glanced at Stiles first, in which Stiles held out both of his thumbs out with a grin, and he scoffed as he put on the glasses. He propped his elbows on the table, hands clasped, "Happy?"

When Stiles did not answer, Derek continued, "You didn't have to be so disgusted."

Stiles still did not answer. He was not disgusted for sure, but he can't seem to find his voice. It seemed to be stuck in his throat. He swallowed his saliva just in case. Yes, it must be something that he ate just now, he reasoned, an allergy or something. It'd explained his rising heartbeat.

Derek sighed, a hand reaching to the glasses.

In a speed of light, Stiles stumbled over the empty cup with his hands, knocking it off the table, as he hurriedly stop Derek from removing the glasses. It was an instinctual act more than anything.

The two of them stuck in that awkward position, like two separate lines finally meeting at one point, Derek sat, his fingers pinching the air as Stiles hand wrapped around his wrist, halting his initial movement. Derek observed as Stiles appeared to look panicked, his eyebrows furrowed, the upturnt lips, and the intense focus to his eyes. The sound of the bell ringing against the opening door snapped them back into the present.

Stiles released his hold, he returned to sitting, albeit fidgeting more than ever, as he clear his throat with a small 'Sorry'. Derek simply looked away.

If the new customers came in just a few seconds late, Derek would've seen the way Stiles' eyes drifted from his eyes down to his lips for a split-second. Stiles dragged a hand down his face. "We should go," he said as he stood. "They must be there already."

Derek simply nodded and followed Stiles out.

Fuck, Stiles thought. No way.

"Hey, wait up." Derek called out from behind, picking up the pace to catch up. The setting sunlight reflected on his glasses. "You forgot to pay for your drink, so you owe me now."

Fuck no, Stiles cursed inwardly, glaring at Derek before entering his Jeep.

No way in any hell I'm finding him attractive with glasses on.

a/n: thinking of making a part two maybe...

[teencopandthesourwolf]

AGAINST ALL ODDS

for @sterekdrabbles 22.01.24 challenge. the prompt words were: WHITE, LISTEN and UPSET. the end of the month theme was: GENTLENESS. #teen wolf movie fix-it, #magical stiles stilinski, #derek lives, #stiles stilinski is eli hale's other parent.

.

Looking at Eli, his heart burned hotter than the flames.

I love you, son. 

His boy cried Dad! and Derek doubted his divine move…

.

“No.”

Derek's eyes flew open. 

Stiles?!

Bright light, then—

Blackness. 

.

His head hurt.

I'm alive?

“Listen, I don't care how upset you'll be: I gave my jeep to the kid. Because fuck you, Derek.”

Derek tried swallowing. 

“He's mine too? Right?”

Shit. 

“Stiles—”

“I would’ve come back.”

Derek burned again.

“Exactly,” he whispered. 

Stiles sighed.

“No more self-sacrifice.” 

After a lifetime, Derek nodded.

Stiles rolled his eyes, shoved him and said, “Move over.”

So, Derek did. 

.

[mikhardwheat]

Thiam, Teen Wolf Movie

The funniest thing would've been if during the movie Theo was actually on a work trip or just hanging out with his friends in France (with Isaac, maybe) and Liam just didn't tell him what's going on, because he deserves a break once in a while.

Theo, calling Liam from the café they went with Isaac to, while Isaac flirts with a barista or something: hey

Liam, hiding behind the car in the middle of the fight: hi! how's your day going?

Theo: Isaac won't stop whining about how boring the museums are

Theo: he still goes, though

Liam: you have any pictures?

Theo: you bet I do

Theo: the paintings were cool, but I would've liked to know what they mean before I saw them for the first time

Theo: I wish you were here

Liam: aww, you miss me?

Theo: of course I do

Liam: me too

There's an explosion.

Theo:

Theo: Liam, what was that?

Liam: what was what?

Theo: the sound of something exploding?

Liam: oh, that

Liam: I'm watching a movie

Theo: shouldn't you be in the middle of your shift at the shop?

Liam, watching Hikari running towards the enemy: nah, it's all good

Liam: I took a break, Hikari got me covered

Theo: you feeling well?

Liam: yes, why?

Theo: nothing, it's just…

Isaac: hey, Liam!

Liam: bonjour!

Isaac: now, that sounds good enough

Isaac: did you practice your French?

Liam: on occasion, yeah

Liam: in case you ditch Theo somewhere and I need to help him out

Isaac: I would never

Theo, in the distance: give me that back

Theo: so, we were talking…

Liam: I'm doing just fine, don't worry

Liam: miss you ages, though

Theo: ah, pup, that makes me wanna buy an early ticket-

Liam: NO! don't do that!

Theo: what?

Theo: I wasn't planning to, but

Liam: good. don't.

Theo: you act… weird

Another explosion.

Theo: what are you hiding?

Liam: nothing!

Liam: I have to go

Theo: Liam…

Liam: love you, bye!

He hangs up.

Theo:

Isaac: what's wrong?

Theo: I'm not sure...

A second later he gets text from Liam:

Liam, 17:23

shops on fire

Theo, 17:23

Shop's on what now??

Liam???

Theo, 17:27

If you don't answer right now, I'm driving to the airport

You hear me?

Liam.

[Missed call]

LIAM

[Missed call]

[Missed call]

[Missed call]

I'm on my way.

Liam, 17:32

SHIT

theo stop

errythin s fine

we have it under control

Theo, 17:32

You sure?

Liam, 17:33

i am

just go back to w/e u were doin

i'll call u later ❤️

Theo, 17:34

If you say so… ttyl then

[film-in-my-soul]

Sterek ▪︎ Pacific Rim AU ▪︎ "You and I are drift-compatible."

Stiles is floating on air; his blood is pumping through his veins like he's got music running alongside it, but all the same, he's scowling, stalking after Derek Hale through the Shatterdome halls.

"Would you slow the fuck down?" Stiles calls after him, rubbing his already sore elbow as he ducks around two scientists who'd already thrown themselves to the walls when Derek stomped between them, shoulders hunched all the way to his ears, looking infuriatingly attractive in his tanktop.

Derek, though Stiles hadn't expected any differently, doesn't respond. He only picks up his pace but thankfully seems reluctant to actually run away from Stiles. Stiles uses that to his advantage; he doesn't have enough shame left in his body not to jog to catch up. When he gets his hand around Derek's wrist to stop him, the other man yanks himself away but, apparently realizing that Stiles isn't going to stop, pivots and gets right into his space, his face a thunderstorm of agitation.

As he does with most things, Stiles recognizes that pushing is probably not the brightest idea and does it anyway.

"You are an I drift-compatible." Stiles starts, proud of how he doesn't shrink away when, magically, Derek's expression only darkens, twisting into a grimace. "So what the fuck is your problem?"

At first, Stiles doesn't think Derek will answer, especially not when he seems to realize just how close they are and puts a good foot of additional space between them. But, to Stiles's surprise, he does, voice low with frustrated resignation.

"It doesn't matter. Drift-compatible or not, it won't work." He sounds so sure, and more than that, he sounds like he kind of hates it. Stiles is banking on the hate being for whatever isn't working and not for the fact that they'd be so fucking good together. He inches closer, trying to make himself softer at the edges- open. Tentatively, he reaches to touch Derek's arm again, asking permission with the snail's pace he moves.

"You don't know that." Stiles's fingertips brush against Derek's skin. He feels the other man jolt, watching Derek's eyebrows come together in an intense furrow, some of the anger draining off of him but none of the tension.

He meets Stiles's eyes and backs away, shaking his head.

"I do." Derek's mouth flattens into a hard line. "I don't want you in my head."

When Derek walks away for a second time, Stiles doesn't follow. There is a thickness in the back of his throat, and his eyes sting for reasons he doesn't want to examine. Because when Derek had said, 'I don't want you in my head.' It had sounded, to Stiles, a lot closer to 'I don't want you to see me and be disappointed.'

a ship, trope, & a sentence

[ceruleanmusings]

Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm. MelxIsaac

Since you sent me two and I was going to use the other one for Mel and Isaac anyway, I'm combining the two here. Hope you don't mind. This is set during Season 3 Ep 19, Letharia Vulpina. I've been wanting to write my take on this for a while but I haven't gotten far enough in my series so this gave me a great excuse to finally do it! (Also, yeah, this was supposed to be a drabble but drabble's are just suggestions to me at this point.) Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm + Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.

--------------

He didn't smell like Isaac. Not anymore. The hospital smells certainly didn't help but it was the marred, crawling stretch of burnt and charred skin that cut through his usual sandalwood scent ruining it all.

She forced a smile to her face to keep from crying again. He didn't like whenever she pointed out how good he smelled, or, rather, being able to identify everything he smelled like. When he switched colognes or used a different shampoo or body wash. She couldn't help it. Growing up around flowers, she could pin point any and every floral scent added to hygienic products. And she just liked the way Isaac smelled beneath it all. She knew that scent anywhere.

Her eyelids slammed shut, lines streaking across the thin skin at her efforts to block out the sight of him if only for a couple seconds. Her Isaac wasn't laid up in a bed, unmoving, head tilted to an uncomfortable angle, lips slack, cannula running along his face.

His handsome face.

The same one that, a few minutes ago, a lifetime ago, she'd spied on the other side of that pool of water stretching in the parking lot. The same one she watched painfully freeze in place as the electric currents took over his body, seizing up every muscle, pulling him down to his knees and then to his side. The same one that held his eyes, so wide and blue as the ocean, onto her as his mouth fell slack and he took one, two, staggering steps towards her.

Her breath eased out of her in a slow, stuttering sigh as she opened her eyes again. He still laid there, heart monitors beeping steadily. His chest rose and fell as if he were sleeping, somewhere on the other side of reality she couldn't reach.

Her fingers twitched in her lap. Her eyes raked the expanse of his burns, traced the line down the side of his face, to his long neck, past the shoulder of the hospital gown he'd been placed in, to the soft curve of his blackened arm lying atop of the blanket.

She always loved his hands. Loved how large they were, how his long, slender fingers stretched an curled from his fleshy palms, how the veins popped out the back, stretching tree roots racing to the base of his fingers, how they undulated and twisted as he wiggled and spun a pencil between them in his idle trances, how they could be curled and turn to stone only to soften on her cheek or held within her own.

Swallowing the lump rising in her throat, she reached for him. The blanket, stiff and starchy, scratched against her forearm; the unpleasant sensation quickly becoming and afterthought she she slipped her hand in his.

His skin didn't belong to him anymore, it wasn't cool and soft to the touch like once before. Now it sat puckered and rough, a stranger's hold on her comfort efforts. She waited for him to let out the little gasp he always uttered whenever she held his hand, waiting for him to turn his head and look at their pressed palms and then to her face with a mixture of surprise and wonder.

What if he didn't look at her like that again? What if he didn't wake up? What if...? She brought up her other hand, clasping his large one between her smaller grip.

"Don't go anywhere, okay?" she said. The steady, rhythmic beats of the machine almost matched up with her cadence. She would've appreciated the beauty in the moment if the low buzz by her ear didn't disrupt the near synchronization. "Don't...don't go where I can't go with you. I can't lose you too. Please."

Her words weakened and cracked by the end, eyes burning and itching with unshed tears lining up and waiting for deployment. She sucked in a breath—bad, bad idea, that burnt smell was overwhelming—but it helped moor her if only for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you fast enough." She tried, but everything was happening too fast: Stiles going missing, Isaac calling her to tell her to meet at Stiles' house, "seeing" Stiles trapped somewhere with something on his foot, seeing the backwards 5 in his room, "seeing" Stiles' remnants on the roof of the hospital in a manic state, stalking through the hospital following a woman who pointed her towards old medical files, reading something about dementia, and then rushing outside at the sound of the chaos, the vision disappearing.

And Kira and the electrical cord.... She had time. She had time! If only she'd unfurled her wings faster or...or tried making a jump for it. The water hadn't spilled much by that point. The cord whipped around, sparking and popping, dancing like an angry snake. Almost like it had a mind of its own. And it buzzed and hummed and fizzed, curling and unfurling, spitting sparks. Kira yelled, telling everyone to get back and Allison—

Bzzt!

Melanie jumped, eyes wide and flashing a bright violet, half expecting the monitors to start popping and showering sparks of their own when the loud buzzing landed a heavy thud in her stomach. Her heart raced and her chest heaved and she looked around, the violet easing away. Everything was the same. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Isaac still looked as if he were sleeping.

Her Isaac. The one who pushed Allison out of the way when she tried to help the paramedic.

Allison...

Melanie's teeth clenched and her shoulders bunched and her eyebrows puckered at the displeasure coursing through her. Allison. She went and ruined everything. This was her fault. If she hadn't been so stupid... Didn't she hear Kira yelling for her to stay back? If it weren't for her Isaac wouldn't have...Isaac wouldn't be.

Her fingers dug into Isaac's palm, gripping tightening. His skin squished just slightly beneath her hold.

"She did this," Melanie hissed. "She did this to you. She messed everything up. Again. She hurt you. Again."

Why did she come back? Everything was going fine until she and her father decided to show their faces in Beacon Hills again. After everything they've done? After all the people they've hurt? The people they've killed? Erica...Boyd...

Now Isaac.

No. She wouldn't let her do this to him. Not again. She wouldn't get away with this, batting her big doe eyes, acting like she was so innocent and didn't have a hand in any of this. "This is all her fault," she hissed between her fenced teeth. "This is all her fault. You're here because of her. She just has to take away everyone I care about. But it's okay. She won't win. Not this time. I'll make sure of it.

"Scott wanted us to give her a second chance?" She let out a harsh laugh; it bounced around the room, a haunting boomerang. "I don't know about you, but I think he was wrong about her this time. Death follows her everywhere she goes. I think...I think it's time it catches up to her. What do you think?"

Isaac didn't need to speak. He'd understand. How many nights had they been up talking about his deep hatred for the twins? For what they did to Braeden, for attacking him during school, for goading him during their disastrous road trip, for killing Boyd. Allison's rap sheet was nearly as long. It's about time she had to atone for her choices.

"Don't worry. I'll fix this. I'll take care of everything. And then we can all go back to normal because she won't be around anymore." She brought Isaac's hand up to her mouth, pressing a firm kiss to the back; nauseating and sweet, the acrid scent wafting off his hand stoked the flame burning deep within her.

Rising, spine as shiny as the steel of her resolve, she leaned over and pressed another kiss to his forehead. A low groan seeped out of his mouth, his body tensed, just slightly, and then he eased, slipping back into sleep. Melanie sniffed. Allison would pay for that too.

She slipped out the door to his room, navigating back up from the burn unit and to the front. Rounding the corner, she recoiled and tucked herself away at the sight of them. Melissa and Scott speaking to...her. Allison, tucked into a chair, as if she was having the best sleep of her life. Must be nice. Melanie's eyes still burned from the long laid hours she'd been by Isaac's side. She couldn't sleep while he was in there alone.

"Have you been here all night?" Scott asked, concerned. As if she deserved it.

"Yeah... They won't let me see him because I'm not family." Melanie smirked. Poor Allison couldn't get what she wanted for once. As for her, it was easy; like simply asking for a favor. She charmed her way past the night clerk with a smile and a simple touch to the arm. It was amazing how far her siren power of persuasion could take her. No one batted an eye when she came across nurses and doctors, they just smiled and let her through. They really needed to amp up their security. "I told them he doesn't have any..."

"He's got us..." Melissa said.

Bullshit. Where were they all night? Why were they only checking on him now? Where were the phone calls or the texts keeping everyone in the loop? He didn't have them. He had her.

And if things went well, she'd make sure it stayed that way. Permanently.

[slice-of-magenta]

"I tried but I can't forget" + sciles

Thank u mem for the request! 💕 💕

---

Stiles places a hand over his. “Hey, Scott, it's okay if you feel that.”

Scott shakes his head. His eyes grew watery. “I don’t want to make it seem like I'm afraid of you. It wasn’t you.”

Stiles notes the way his under eyes are darker as he rubs at them. 

“Scott, do you have nightmares?”

“I have nightmares about everything,” Scott murmurs, almost too quietly. He doesn’t even look up at him when he confesses it but he sees the weight in just his shoulders and the way he clenches his jaw too crookedly to know it's been bothering him for some time. “I still have this shadow that looms over me… I can’t get rid of it. I tried but I can’t forget that it's right there when I’m awake or asleep, taunting me.”

“...The shadow from the sacrifices?”

Scott remains silent. 

Prompt List 

[artaxlivs]

Stiles always assumed that when Derek finally kissed him - because it has always felt inevitable - that it would be a boiling over of their anger. That Derek would throw Stiles into a wall or yell at Stiles after a monster fight and the kiss would be provoked by outrage. That it would be a violent meeting of tongues and teeth and groping, squeezing hands on every part of each other that they could reach. 

It would be a battle for dominance, a mess of conflicting emotions. Uncontrolled and undiscussed. That it would burn like a forest fire and either leave them both with nothing but ashes or ignite something that would consume them. 

He always assumed that a kiss from Derek would not be given, would not be shared. It would be wrenched from his tightly controlled fists and Stiles would have to fight for his right to keep it. 

But when it happens it’s nothing like that at all. When Derek finally kisses Stiles for the first time, it’s with laughter, rather than rage, in the space between them. 

When it happens - it’s with consent. 

Because Derek asks. Because of course he does. 

They’re on Derek’s couch, an empty pizza box on the coffee table. Derek, relaxed and comfortable, is sitting sideways with one knee bent between them. Stiles is sitting criss-cross with his socked feet tucked up under his knees. He’s just finished a story about one of the deputies trying to arrest Mrs. Riechton for shoplifting and getting beat up by the eighty-three year old woman and her giant purse. Her purse that was heavy with the five books of fairie porn she’d just stolen from the local Barnes & Noble. 

Derek is almost doubled over with laughter and Stiles has one hand across his stomach because it hurts from laughing. And suddenly it’s like the last puzzle piece has clicked into place. The last Lego in the build. The last push pin in a mind map. 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s soft and filled with something like hope. Something like wonder. Like Derek can’t possibly believe that they made it this far. That they’ve somehow made it to a place where the answer might be yes. 

And it is. 

It really fucking is. 

Because Stiles has been in something with Derek since he was sixteen. In sexual crisis. In confused lust. In determined lust. In awkward friendship. In love. In all the stages of mutual respect. In love. 

So yes. Yes, please. Yes a million times in a million ways. 

Just. Yes. 

It’s not a soft and gentle kiss. It’s not bordering on aggressive like he’d always thought it would be. No, it’s somewhere in between. It’s sure and happy and hopeful - so hopeful. Just warm, soft lips at first but then tongues, too. Then one of them leans forward and one of them leans back and it’s everything.

They sink into the couch and into each other and the rest of the world fades into the background. Like everything from the last six years has been leading up to this moment. Every loss, every victory, every bullet wound and demonic possession, every step into danger and every step away from each other has still somehow brought them together. 

To this. 

To kissing with intention. 

“I think I always knew,” Derek says when they’re curled into each other's warmth later.

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, not asking for clarification because he always knew, too. 

Some things are meant to be.

Edit: You can now find this on Ao3 here. There might be more someday, It's happened before.

[stilinskibaby]

early series stiles

PAIRING : s1-2!stiles x reader.

CONTENT : fluff.

is so protective of you, especially after finding out about the supernatural

is constantly checking up on you (have you drank water, are you sleeping well, etc.)

lowkey is always trying to hold hands with you under the guise of ‘i have something to show to you’

starts stuttering at you once he acknowledges his crush on you

starts having nightmares about you dying during the kanima situation

has you and scott over for weekly movie / dinner nights bc he knows it calms your anxiety

LATE NIGHT DRIVING JAMS,, him picking you up just to drive around and listen to music and sometimes he parks at the preserve bc he knows u like the view

helping you with your homework

him asking u for girl advice ( u r the girl )

THE BIGGEST GIFTS FOR UR BIRTHDAY ( you dont even know how u got the money for it )

tl:dr stiles is a cutie patootis sweetiepie

[gremlinbabe]

Am I scrambling to write a ficlet as we speak? yes. Do I even know where to start? No. Will that stop me? Also no, expect a ficlet in the next 72 hrs.

[lavenderlegends]

can you fall in love after a single kiss?

ship: stiles/derek prompt: crisp air characters: erica, scott, isaac, danny, jackson, allison mention, boyd mention cw: drinking tags: college au, fluff word count: 2.6k ao3 ♞♚♞♚

"Ahhhh," Stiles says, as he steps out into the crisp fall air. He looks over at Erica. "Do you feel that?"

"Hm?" she says, looking up from her phone. "What's that?"

"The air! Fall has begun!" Stiles exclaims. He nudges her. "C'mon, why aren't you enjoying this?"

"Because," Erica says, looking back down at her phone as they walk down the path towards the parking lot. "I've got a lot going on at the moment."

"Mhm, it's that guy, isn't it?" Stiles asks, trying to peek at her screen. She hides it from him with a pointed expression.

"None of your business," she answers.

"Ugh. Well, will I at least see you at Danny's party?" Stiles shoves his hand into his pocket, searching for his Jeep keys. Erica doesn't answer by the time he's pulled out the bi flag lanyard, so he pouts. "Ericaaaa, midterms are over. We have to celebrate. Please tell me you're coming to Danny's party."

"What?" she asks, looking up at him. "Oh. Danny's party. Yes. I'll be there."

"Will he be there?" Stiles asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Erica's face flushes in a way he's never seen before. She shrugs. "Maybe."

"I can't wait to meet the mystery man, then."

"He's not a mystery man. He's just a guy I met at the library." Erica bites her bottom lip when they reach his Jeep and are about to say goodbye. He doesn't rush to open the door.

"What is it?"

"I think... oh my god, I can't believe I'm even thinking this, let alone saying this... but..."

"Spit it out already," Stiles says, shaking with impatience. He should've taken his Adderall today, but definitely forgot. He likes to pretend he does better studying without it, but his most recent midterm would prove otherwise.

Erica ducks her head. "I think he's, like, the one."

"What," Stiles blurts. He doesn't mean to, really, but he's never ever heard Erica talk like this and they've been best friends since kindergarten. Stiles waits until she lifts her head up again before he asks, "Are you possessed?"

She shakes her head.

Stiles blinks. "Holy shit, Erica! That's huge. I never thought you'd settle down for a boyfriend, let alone the one."

Erica lets out a soft laugh. "Yeah, me neither. I don't know what it is about him, Stiles, but he gets me."

"Does he...?"

"Know I'm trans? Yeah," Erica says, nodding. "I know. It's strange, isn't it? I don't think I've ever been on a second date before."

"But this guy?"

"This guy," Erica confirms, a shy smile crossing her lips. "This guy is something else. Listen, I'm going to go shopping before Danny's party. I want to look good. I'll catch up with you later?"

"Sounds good."

"And if you tell anyone what I said--"

He laughs. "As if anyone would believe me."

"True." Erica grins, and bounces away with a skip in her step. Stiles stares after her.

This party is going to be one to remember.

Erica's in love. It's obvious. She just met the guy a week ago, but some things are undeniable.

He smiles to himself as he gets into his Jeep. Maybe, just maybe, the one for him is at the party tonight too.

♞♚♞♚

Stiles shows up a little late, but he meant to be on time. He even set like six alarms to stop his ADHD from getting in the way, but alas, it was pointless. He just hopes Danny isn't mad.

"There you are!" Danny's voice comes when Stiles enters the kitchen.

"Hey, sorry." Stiles hands him a bag of ice. "I know, I know. Super late. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Derek also brought ice."

Stiles jerks his head back. "You asked Derek to bring you ice too?"

"I did," Danny says. "Figured you'd be late. I've known you since high school, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles says, rolling his eyes. "I just can't believe you asked Mr. Grumpy Pants to bring ice. It's like asking a bear to step out of their cave while they're hibernating."

"Ha, ha," a sarcastic, dry tone comes from behind him.

Stiles jumps and whips around to see Derek freaking Hale standing behind him. He groans. "Are you everywhere? I swear, you have the hearing of a bat."

Derek tilts his head. "You shouldn't be that surprised to see me. I am Danny's roommate."

"Mhm," Stiles says. "Don't remind me."

Stiles and Derek haven't gotten along since first semester of first year. The guy has been nothing but rude and grumpy to Stiles. His theory is that Derek's in love with Danny, especially because his attitude just got worse after he learned that Stiles and Danny used to hook up in high school.

But Danny's been dating Jackson pretty much since they started college, so Stiles doesn't get why Derek's not over him yet.

"Alright, I'm off to find Scott and Isaac!" Stiles announces, before muttering, "'Cause I can't stand to be around you anymore."

Derek snorts. "Like I want to be around you either."

"Can't we be nice for one night?" Danny pleads, but Stiles just tosses his hand in the air and walks towards the living room.

Erica's talking to a very handsome guy in the corner, and she's twirling her hair. He freezes, watching them. He's never seen her twirl her hair before. Ever. But there she is, giggling, and looking up at this guy with the biggest heart-eyes he's ever seen.

"Oh my god, I can't believe it," Isaac says, suddenly appearing at Stiles' side. Scott joins him on the other side. "I've never seen Boyd talk so much to a girl before."

"Yeah, it's a bit weird," Scott says. "Erica's like... usually on the prowl by now."

"Jesus," Stiles mutters. "You make her sound like a cougar."

"Well, you know what I mean. She eats boys up and spits them out. It's her thing," Scott says. "I've never seen her so... infatuated before."

"That's a great word for it, honey," Isaac says, grinning. He shares a look with Scott, and Stiles groans. "What?"

"You two are also disgustingly in love," Stiles mutters. "Everyone seems to be these days!"

"Calm down," Scott says, but he's still got a moony look towards Isaac on his face. "You'll find the right person soon."

"Uh-huh." Stiles sighs. "I'm going to find Lydia. You two are making me nauseated."

He doesn't wait for them to protest, but heads out to the balcony. He smiles when he finds Lydia alone. She takes a long sip of her drink before looking at him.

"Nice night out, huh?" Stiles asks.

"Yeah." Lydia sighs. "I wish Ally was here tonight."

"Why isn't she?" Stiles asks, glancing back through the windows as if he might magically spot her.

"She went home to visit her parents."

"Are you two...?"

"Yeah," Lydia admits. "We're keeping it on the downlow for now. I mean, her breakup with Kira is still pretty fresh. But..."

"Damn." Stiles rubs his face. "Everyone seems to be in a relationship these days."

Lydia pats his shoulder. "I'm sorry, darling. You'll find someone. I just know it."

"Yeah. That's what they keep telling me." Stiles sighs.

Lydia finishes her drink and then says, "I'm going back inside. You coming?"

"I think I'll stay out here for now." Stiles doesn't care if he shivers. Nothing is going to make him go back inside now.

Erica has Boyd. Danny's with Jackson. Scott and Isaac have been dating for almost a year. Now Lydia and Allison? When is it going to be his turn?

Stiles stretches his neck before leaning over the edge of the balcony. He's looking into a parking lot, and it's not very exciting, but he can sort of see the city lights from here, and that's nice. He guesses.

He's not drunk enough for this.

Maybe he should ditch the party, curl up, and watch Disney Plus. Anything would be better than this. Being alone. Again. As always.

"Room for one more out here?"

Stiles freezes at the sound of Derek's voice before turning. "What do you want?"

"Thought maybe we could talk." Derek shuts the door gently behind him. "What do you say?"

"Whatever," Stiles mutters.

"What's your problem with me?" Derek asks, as if he doesn't already know. Stiles glances at him again but can't stare too long because his heart has started to pound.

He's never actually been alone with Derek before.

"Like you don't know," Stiles mutters.

"I don't," Derek says, flatly.

"You've been nothing but rude to me, and you only got ruder once you learned about my history with Danny."

Derek blinks. "What are you talking about?"

"Sure. Play dumb." Stiles rolls his eyes. He turns to face Derek now, surprised at how close they are together. It's not a huge balcony, but it's not that small either.

Derek looks down at Stiles, just slightly, and asks, "Talk to me like I'm dumb."

"Fine." Stiles lifts his head and bites his lip. Derek's eyes are unwavering on his. "You are the rudest person I have ever met. You totally changed your vibe around me after the news about Danny and I came out. You were stiffer, and not in like, a fun way. You wouldn't look me in the eyes. You just... grunted. A lot. Danny was my first. I was his first. It was all very sweet, but just because you're in love with Danny, doesn't mean you have like... claim on him. He's his own person. And he chose Jackson. So, I don't get why you're such an asshole to me."

Stiles is shaking now, but he doesn't care.

The crisp fall air has turned cold.

And then...

Derek kisses him.

Stiles would jerk back if he had the ability to think. But Derek's lips are hot against his, and suddenly, Stiles is grabbing onto Derek's sweater, and holding him there.

He'd be lying if he said this hadn't popped into his mind before. But he never thought... never in a million years imagined... never...

Derek pulls away, but not far.

His voice is soft but gruff when he says, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Then he turns on his heels and walks back into the party. As if he hadn't just given Stiles the best kiss of his life.

"What the fuck?" Stiles whispers, bringing his shaking fingers up to his lips.

He doesn't know what to make of that, so he stays out on the balcony until it's too cold, and then when he goes back into the party, Derek's already gone.

♞♚♞♚

He can't stop thinking about it. He might actually understand Erica's obsession with her phone and Boyd now. Stiles waits. He waits for some sort of flicker of hope that maybe Derek kissing him was real. That maybe it wasn't a fluke.

But no notifications ever come. No Instagram follow. No accidental Tweet like. Not even a Facebook friend request.

Stiles hates it.

♞♚♞♚

"Hey darling, I'm sorry, but I have to bail on our shopping trip today," Lydia tells him on the phone a few days later. "Allison had a rough time at home, and came back to campus early. I'm going to go over to hers, is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Stiles says, absentmindedly.

"Okay, thank you!" Lydia sends kisses through the phone and hangs up.

It takes him a minute to realize they've said goodbye and she's gone.

He's busy staring at Danny's messages in Whatsapp and debating on what to say.

Nothing sounds right.

hey your dumb roommate kissed me

hey can you fall in love after a single kiss

hey I was wondering if I could come over?

The last one, he sends.

Danny gives him a thumbs-up and Stiles makes his way over. He hesitates at the door, but it swings open and Jackson stands there.

"Jesus!" Jackson says. "You almost gave me a heart attack, Stilinski. What are you doing here?"

"Uhhh."

"We're going to hang out and play some video games!" Danny's voice comes from somewhere in the apartment.

"That," Stiles says.

"Alright," Jackson replies, shaking his head. "Just, like, knock next time." He pauses to call back to Danny. "Love you!"

"Love you too!" Danny shouts.

Jackson heads out and leaves the door open for Stiles. He slowly inches his way into the apartment and shuts the door behind him.

"Is, uh, Derek here?" Stiles asks.

"Huh?" Danny says, coming into the living room. He wears a bright smile. "No, no. He hasn't been around all week. Studying for some big test he has next week, I guess. The apartment's all ours."

"Where's Jackson going?"

"Oh, his dad's in town, so they're having dinner."

Danny gives Stiles a quick hug. "C'mon, let's play."

"Sure."

It's reasonable of Danny to assume Stiles wants to play a video game, but all he wants to do right now is ask about Derek. He shoves his questions deep down though.

At least, until he can't hold it in any longer. They're three hours deep into the newest game Danny bought and Stiles blurts, "Why would Derek kiss me?"

Danny freezes, pauses the game, and turns to look at Stiles. "He did what now?"

"He kissed me. At your party. On that balcony. Last week." Stiles breathes. He's finally told someone else and it feels good. "Why... why would he do that?"

"I... I honestly don't know," Danny says, slowly. His eyebrows come together. "Although, now that I think about it, he does ask about you sometimes."

"He does?" Stiles asks, hating how hopeful he sounds.

"Yeah. Like he asked if I had heard from you after the party," Danny explains. "I thought it was a little weird, but... Derek's kind of weird, y'know? Keeps to himself a lot."

"Right." Stiles bites his lip. "Okay, you know what, let's not talk about it anymore. Pretend it never happened."

Because that's what Derek's doing.

"Sure thing," Danny says, and hits play on the game. Stiles is almost instantly killed.

♞♚♞♚

Stiles is walking to class with Erica through the courtyard when he finally sees Derek for the first time since the party.

"Hey, I'm not feeling well suddenly." Stiles puts a hand over his stomach. "Dairy issues."

Erica scrunches her nose. "Gross, Stiles. You really don't need to tell me that every time. And also, stop eating dairy!"

Normally, he'd laugh, but he's too tense. "Catch you back at home?"

"Sure. Feel better," Erica says, kissing him on the cheek.

Stiles waits until she's in the building and out of sight before he crosses the courtyard. His heart pounds so loud he can hear it. He's losing his nerve the closer he gets, but he doesn't stop.

"You kissed me."

Derek swings his head up from his textbook. He meets Stiles' eyes and calmly says, "Yes."

"Why?" Stiles asks, slipping into the picnic table bench. "Because I've been thinking and thinking and nothing makes sense except--"

"I have a crush on you." Derek says it so clear-as-day, it almost shakes Stiles' core.

"But why?"

Derek swallows before answering. He keeps his voice low. "Because you are so unafraid to be yourself. Because you clearly care about our mutual friends. Because you show up with ice even when you're an hour late. Because you're loud and obnoxious and funny and a smart ass. Because you don't care that my parents are rich and my dad's the dean of our school. You treat me the exact same way. You don't tiptoe around me or ask me for favours or try to get in good with me to get in with my dad."

Stiles blinks. He's positive that at some point Danny told him about Derek's parents, but he didn't realize that people... did that to Derek because of them. He swallows.

"I... I see."

"Does that answer your question?" Derek asks.

"Yes. But I have one more."

Derek simply stares at him.

Stiles musters up all his courage and says, "Can we do it again?"

♞♚♞♚

[6ft-under-beacon-hills]

Puppy Pack choosing what to watch for a horror movie night imagines? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

horror movie night with the puppy pack! | spooky szn imagine

a/n: hi, sure sure! hope you like it!

It was a slow and relatively peaceful day. Nothing supernatural threatening the lives of civilians, no werewolf to save, no evil mastermind to catch. None. Nada. So when Mason off-handedly suggested a movie night, expecting no one but Corey to agree, he was surprised that everyone wants in. Mason insists on watching a super scary film. He looks to Corey for support but his hesitant face tells Mason otherwise. Corey wants something on psychological thrillers, mind games, less jumpscare and more brain wrecking plot twists. Theo, with all his snarkiness, agreed with Corey. Hayden suggested Human Centipede. It was a resounding no from everyone. Brett just wants something with a decent plot, he’s not entirely picky as long as the story’s good. Lorilee didn’t care much. She knew she’d be on her phone or covering her eyes most of the time. Scary movies are just not it for her. Same goes for Liam, actually. Though, he backed up Mason. ���Come on guys, what’s the point of a horror movie night if the movie isn’t scary!” They all know that he’d be the first one to duck under a blanket not even five minutes in. So no one’s really convinced with his.. persuasion.  They argued and debated for an absurdly long time. They called Scott for this. They always do when needing a mediator. “Uh.. why not leave it up to luck? Spin the bottles but with movie recommendations.” Scott said, faint animal growls can be heard in the background. He was closing up from work. And they did. They’ve learnt to listen to what Scott says or suggests. Hayden won. Let’s just say a certain few had trouble sleeping for the next week. When Scott asked the next day, Liam gagged and Corey just sighed. 

[teencopandthesourwolf]

SLURPY DURPY

for @sterekdrabbles 29.01.24 challenge. the prompt words were: SAD, MILK and KISS. #POV stiles, #crude banter.

.

“I'll go with him, Der” Stiles offers. 

Derek shoots him a rare not-glare, nods to Isaac, then leaves. 

“You know, you can't milk Sad Lil Puppy-Dog forever, Lahey,” Stiles sighs.

Isaac flutters annoyingly pretty lashes.

Stiles flips him the bird.

“Didn't think you had daddy issues, Stilinski, but seems you wanna kiss some Alpha bussy. With tongue.” Isaac does something truly disgusting with his mouth. 

Stiles inwardly curses the supernatural when the perfectly aimed pen he throws misses Lahey's head entirely.

“What the hell is a bussy?” Derek shouts from outside. 

“OMG I HATE WEREWOLVES!” Stiles very much outwardly curses.

.

[mikhardwheat]

Isaac Lahey and Allison Argent are a famous duo of talented dancers.

They have a crazy chemistry with each other and tension that you can physically feel while watching them do their thing - dance. Naturally, everyone thinks they're in love.

But there's this mystery dude, who's coming to all of their performances with flowers and meets them after every dance, hugging them and crying for them and all that mushy utterly romantic stuff.

Some people speculate that he's dating Allison, some think he's Isaac's boyfriend - both sides feel bad for him, because Isaac and Allison are clearly eyefucking the hell out of each other.

One day Isaac posts a photo of him and Allison with beaming smiles and they both were showing off their wedding rings.

It, obviously, blows up: there are dozens of articles, but neither of them confirms nor denies the published information.

Another competition comes around and here's this guy again, with his flowers, and tears, and hugs.

They get to the finals, win the gold. (Because they worked their asses off for years just so they can perform on this stage)

The host asks them to make a speech and they look at each over all lovingly and then nod. Everyone goes silent, because… that's it, right? They're announcing their wedding?? No more speculation, everyone finally gets to know the truth!

Allison and Isaac take the mic between them and then face the audience:

Isaac: we dedicate this win to our fiancé

Allison: if it wasn't for his support, we wouldn't be here

They turn to the backstage and cameras move along, showing the audience that one guy, who looks seconds from bursting into tears.

Isaac waved him over and he ran towards them, almost sending all three of them flying to the ground, but dancers are strong, so they managed to catch themselves on time.

It's when people saw the third matching ring on the guy's finger.

Scott McCall never was meant to he pitied, he was the luckiest man alive this whole time.

[film-in-my-soul]

sterek and K ? 🙏👀

-> Honor Bondage, Praise Kink, Anal Sex <-

K is for Kink

"That- ah!- that's it, Derek," Stiles stutters on a moan, his head thrown back, his chest burning as he tries to drag in gasps of air, fighting to keep his spine straight and his balance steady as he rocks quick and dirty on top of Derek's lap.

It's his core strength and the way he's clawing at Derek's naked, sweaty chest and not much else keeping him stable. Stiles can't complain about that, though, because he's the one who'd guided Derek's hand to the metal headboard his fingers are currently wrapped around, and it's him who'd pinched the skin just below Derek's collar; a quick "No" on his tongue when the other man had gone to move his hands, to grab when Stiles had told him not to.

Still, Derek had only done it once, and now, what was going on twenty minutes later, Stiles having denied him climax twice already, denied himself (but that's beside the point), Derek's earned himself the secondary reward that comes when Stiles is the one metaphorically on top- when he's calling the shots.

"God, fuck Derek," Stiles sighs, lolling his head forward so he can meet Derek's heavy-lidded eyes, "you're doing so good." He can't stop the whine from cutting the end of the word, but it's easily overpowered by the rumbling sound from Derek in response and how he bucks up unconsciously as Stiles grinds, almost sending Stiles off his perch. He manages to hang on, digging into the meat of Derek's pecs and shivers as he watches Derek's eyes roll back, his mouth falling open in a silent groan, canines extending into dangerous points that Stiles always has the insane urge to lick.

Reactions to those simple, honest words are almost as good as the feeling of Derek inside him, almost a better trade-off for the stretch and the way Stiles knows he'll be sore come morning. There's actually little better than feeling Derek tense with pleasure, nails extending into claws and adding new scores into the bars he's gripping with trembling hands. It only serves to loosen Stiles's lips and guides his natural tendency to run his mouth in the right direction.

"Taking care of me," he babbles, "doing so good for me." Stiles' hips roll harder, faster to meet Derek's as they rock up from the mattress, the end of his patience reached. He's still holding onto the headboard, though, and that's the only request Stiles had made. Well, that and the "Don't come till I say," he'd whispered as he'd settled onto Derek's cock at the start of their night. So Stiles can't fault him. He's nearing his breaking point, too.

Stiles gets a hand around his cock, his knees tight against Derek's flank. He gets three strokes in before Derek grows even more restless beneath him before his mouth screws up in a grimace, his jaw clenched as his brows pinched together as he hisses out a half-wounded "Stiles."

And yeah, Stiles doesn't like to make himself a liar; he'd told Derek he was being good, which meant it was time to award that.

Stripping his cock with quick, sloppy tugs, Stiles clenches around Derek, doing his best to meet each needy shift of the other as he feels his balls begin to draw up, the heat just behind his navel sharpening and pulling him closer to the precipice. When it's almost there, inevitable and building traction until Stiles won't have a choice in holding back or popping off, he dips forward as best he can, meeting Derek as he strains up and takes a kiss from Stiles before Stiles can even offer one.

When they pull apart, panting and moaning senseless sounds into each other's open mouths, Stiles manages to swallow, manages to croak a broken "C'mon, Derek, you've been perfect, c'mon, give it to me," and because Derek is perfect, he does.

Alphabet Prompt Game

[ceruleanmusings]

Flutter

Becca asked me nearly a year ago, ssssh!, to write something inspired by the first clip in this tiktok for Mel and Isaac. Short, quick, and fun. Isaac’s a goner from the day he met her. This is super cheesy but I like it anyway. I love them.

“Why’d you put on a filter?”

“Huh?” Mel’s thumbs stilled on her phone and she looked up at Isaac. The golden light bathing the streets of downtown Beacon Hills made her squint one eye to battle the overexposure. Adding in the wrinkle to her nose, Isaac could’ve died on the spot being in such close proximity to the cuteness. “What d’you mean?”

He used his chin to motion to her phone. “The picture you just posted. You put a filter on it.” The crowds from the emptying movie theater moved around them. He took a step closer to her, freeing up space on the sidewalk. That was the second reason, anyway.

“What? No I didn’t. I never put a filter on my pics.” Her thumbs moved across the screen, quickly adding a caption to the picture still on display before posting. Chimes went off seconds later indicating a shower of likes and comments. Barely giving her screen a glance she shoved it into her pocket and looked up at him. He always seemed to have her full attention. “This golden hour light is as close as I’ll ever get to using one.” She shrugged. “Instagram can get really fake, I don’t like adding to it.”

“It has to be one,” he insisted. “I mean, look at your eyelashes.” Anyone else would have laughed at his lame attempts at conversation (or, rather, to keep conversation) but not her. She took anything he talked about seriously, as if everything he said was important. And the way she looked up at him, round electric blue eyes beneath a long, thick rim of black, as if she were riveted? He’d do anything to keep her looking at him like that. Case in point: a dumb conversation that didn’t need to happen but he made happen if only to squeeze more time with her. “They can’t actually be like that. I mean, are they real?”

“They grow out my face like this.”

“If you say so.”

She put her hands on her hips, squinting up at him while lifting up on her toes. “Are yours real?”

“Of course they are.”

“They’re really long. it’s almost unfair. Guys should’ve had eyelashes that long. It should be against the law.”

He shrugged. Yeah, this was really dumb. But he’d bend over backwards doing just about anything dumb for her. Because she made him feel not-so-dumb and, after living with his father for so long, it was nice being silly without being punished for it. “Don’t know what to tell you.”

“Wait, so yours can be real but mine can’t? That’s kinda rude.” Even as she admonished him, she cracked a smile so wide sunbeams may as well have embedded themselves into her teeth with the way it sparkled. And he, somehow, was the lucky loser who go to bask in her spotlight.

Isaac held up his hands. “I mean, girls have the help with makeup and stuff right?”

“I can prove it. Look.”

His breath rushed out all at once, not from the jarring scratching of the brick against his back when she pushed him into it but from the heat sinking into his skin from her hand on his chest. Her smile faded, just slightly, as her eyes closed and she tilted her face up towards him, giving himself an up close and personal view of her gorgeous face. And her lashes, too.

Ok, this was torture. But what did he expect goading her with such a dumb argument? His fingers twitched and he curled them into his palms, lest he do something astronomically dumb like touch her face under the guise of moving her hair out the way.

Though he topped himself on the dumb scale a second later when he leaned down, just enough their noses almost touched, just enough he could count the tiniest freckles dotting her nose, just enough for his lips to...

Her opened and she ducked her head. Apologies thundered like a waterfall out his mouth for, well, for being such a guy. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe he deserved his father’s punishments if he kept screwing up like that. They were friends. That’s all. He should’ve known.

“It’s okay,” Mel said beneath his rapid-fire stammers. “It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. Just, kinda...distracted?” She pressed a fingertip to his sternum. “You got nacho cheese on your shirt.”

Humming, Isaac looked to where her finger had pressed into his chest only to be overwhelmed by the essence of her when she popped up on her toes and kissed him, causing his heart to flutter. And when she pulled away, she brushed her nose against his and leaned back on her heels, smiling up at him while whispering, “Gotcha.”