Maybe It’s Time
Summary: Jackson invites Stiles to spend Valentine’s day
with him.Notes: A (late) little Valentine’s day fic, because somebody (*cough* @inell *cough*) reminded me that I should be writing Stackson. (On AO3)
“Jackson?” Stiles says curiously when he answers the phone.
“Yes, it’s me,” Jackson huffs, and Stiles just knows that he’s
rolling his eyes.“What’s up?” he asks, because while Jackson texts him
occasionally, he never calls.“I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out today,”
Jackson says, sounding cool and casual. Almost suspiciously so.“Uh, it’s Valentine’s day,” Stiles says pointedly. “Aren’t
you supposed to be going on a date with Lydia?”“We broke up three months ago, Stiles.”
Tag: fluff
gorgeous beards of bhu
A Sterek ficlet inspired by all those accounts like “Humans of New York” and “Dogs of Instagram.” Also partially by this pic of Tyler Hoechlin. ~2k words, rated T.
There are a lot of reasons Stiles is pretty sure Erica is his platonic soulmate. Her brilliant innuendos. Her epic dance moves. Her stubborn refusal to back down from things that scare her. The fact that her comic book collection is even bigger than Stiles’. And, of course, her @gorgeousbeards_of_bhu instagram account.
Beacon Hills University has about two thousand students, making it just big enough that Stiles doesn’t know everyone, or even know of everyone. It’s also, for some reason, the kind of school that attracts a lot of hipster and mountain man types, maybe because it’s California. That makes it a rich hunting ground for Erica and her camera. She manages to post a new “gorgeous beard” every other day or so.
They’re always fun pictures with a little snippet of an interview quoted underneath, and it’s weirdly addictive to scroll through it in the mornings while Stiles is waiting in line for coffee. By this point, after almost a whole semester of following her account, Stiles has seen guys with banjos and beards down to their knees, guys with flowers woven into their beards, guys with Tarzan-esque flowing locks, even some nonbinary bearded people. Then, of course, there are the many hipsters and guys in plaid shirts who look more like lumberjacks than college students.
Stiles asks Erica one time if she’ll feature him on her instagram if he grows a beard. That’s how he finds out she has standards.
“I remember your facial hair from senior year of high school, and no I will not,” she says, shuddering. “Take it from me, you look much better as a boy band twink than a sketchy long-haul trucker.”
She’s a true friend.
*
Then there’s the day she posts a picture of The Guy. His face is spattered with what looks suspiciously like blood, and there are a bunch of jagged rips in his shirt, like he got into a fight with something with claws.
Even like that, he’s still one of the hottest people Stiles has ever seen. He’s staring challengingly into the camera with gorgeous green-grey eyes and glorious eyebrows of sarcasm. His facial hair looks like it’s been groomed by the gods. His arm muscles have Stiles thinking about all the creative and athletic sex they could probably have without this guy even breaking a sweat.
The caption reads, “I swear I didn’t just come from murdering someone. I was a werewolf in my friend Kira’s horror photo shoot.”
Stiles spits out his coffee, shocked into laughter, and that’s it. He’s intrigued. More than intrigued. Infatuated. Obsessed enough to comb through the entire Gorgeous Beards of BHU archives to see if there are any more pictures of this guy. Sometimes Erica will interview the same person twice if it’s been a while.
Not this time, though, apparently.
a sterek fic inspired by this stupid thing because how could I not
It’s a common saying among Stiles’ friends that he doesn’t have a lot of
dignity. To be perfectly honest, Stiles agrees with them (as much as he argues
against the point whenever they bring it up).But this is probably a new low.
Well, not new-new, because this is into the fourth week of the habit
and if he was a better person, he’d have stopped by now. He’s not a better
person in this instance, but he’s made peace with it.‘It’ being watching his stubbled neighbour jog past his place every morning
in sweatpants and obviously non-supportive underwear. There’s a lot of movement
down there. A lot.“I mean, with that much jiggle, he’s gotta know, right?” Stiles asks his
window pane, behind which he’s fake writing on his laptop.They’re not quite neighbours, there’s about half a block between them for
which Stiles’ sanity is thankful. Otherwise who knows what ludicrous amateur
spying would have occurred.As it is, he is very thankful he accidentally set his alarm for five am two
(it was four) mornings in a row, because now he knows that this is a morning
ritual for his neighbour.Today hot neighbour is wearing the cut off, grey sweats. They’re a personal
favourite of Stiles’ (better than the dark blue ones, which make it harder to
see) because it means not only can he get a clear view of his neighbour’s dick
as it swings forward against the fabric, but also his sweaty, perfectly muscled
calves.Stiles sighs out and bangs his head once against the window pane, a small
punishment that is also part of the routine.What is not part of the routine, is hot neighbour looking into Stiles’
window, and seeing Stiles’ face smooshed against the glass, after which he
trips, possibly in disgust, or just simple distraction.Stiles’ first reaction is to panic. He pushes his chair back from the desk and
slams his laptop closed.His second reaction is that he should call someone to come help.
His third reaction is to realise that, hold on, he can go and help.
Stiles rushes out his front door and into the chilly morning air.
“I think it’s about time we stop avoiding the obvious.” Stiles/Danny
Of All the Residents Halls In All The World
Read on ao3
Stiles didn’t think he’d know anyone at George Washington University, he really didn’t think he’d run into anyone he’d known from Beacon Hills. Enter Danny Maleahani.This got a little out of hand. I hope you like it!
There were a lot of different kinds of of people Stiles expected to run into in DC, protesters, politicians, maybe even his one cousin he hadn’t seen since his mom died because their family lived in Baltimore. He never expected to run into Danny Maleahani.
He especially didn’t expect to run into Danny on his floor outside of his dorm while Stiles was coming out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He took a deep breathe, knowing there was no way to avoid seeing Danny, who was standing directly in his path.
“Stiles?” Danny said, looking as surprised as Stiles felt, his eyes a little wide.
“You know Stilinski?” Mark from Stiles’ floor asked, sounding a little suspicious, which was valid, it was only the third official day on campus, classes hadn’t even started yet. And the more Stiles looked at the two of them, the more he could see that Danny was clearly leaving after a hook up.
“We went to high school together,” Stiles said, avoiding looking at Danny’s tight shirt and broad shoulders, “Until Danny moved.”
“Long time no see,” Danny said with a bright smile that took Stiles back to high school in a way he hadn’t expected it to, “I’ll text you Mike.”
“It’s Mark,” Mark said dully, side eyeing Stiles for a second and letting out a breath.
“Right sorry,” Danny said offering him a smile, “I’ll text you. See you around Stiles.”
Last Call (Danny/Stiles/Jackson)
Anonymous said:
Stiles/Jackson/Danny 😍
& sterekseason said: Stiles/Jackson/DannyHope y’all enjoy! Teeny Fic #30
So gather up your jackets, move it to the exits
I hope you have found a friend
Closing time
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s endClosing Time by
SemisonicLast Call. Jackson/Stiles/Danny.
Teen. Also on AO3.Stiles decides to
drown his sorrows but the bar owners aren’t cooperating with his plan.“What do you mean I can’t order the whole bottle?” Stiles
looks at Danny and narrows his eyes. “You’re a bar. You sell alcohol. That
means you have to sell me alcohol.”“And I will. Just not an entire bottle of vodka,” Danny says
dryly. “You’re a regular customer, Stiles. If you die from alcohol poisoning,
the only place you’ll be a regular is Holly Lawn.”
operation: bro parenting
This was definitely inspired by How I Met Your Mother. No regrets.
2:15 AM
“Dude, admit it,” Stiles slurs. “We’d be great parents!”
Derek nods empathetically. “We would be!”
Stiles looks at him with wide eyes. “We should totally adopt a baby!”
“We should adopt a baby!”
–
Earlier that night, 9:35 PM
“Still bummed out about the breakup?” Derek asks, coming up behind Stiles. It’s a chilly night so Derek’s glad he decided to wear the dark purple cable knit sweater Laura got him as an early Christmas present.
Stiles gives an indifferent shrug. “Meh.”
“Liar.”
“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Stiles murmurs, sipping his drink. “Goddamn, Allison makes a mean drink.”
Derek huffs, taking a sip of his own coke-infused vodka. He makes a face at the burn in his throat. “She does, and it’s not pathetic.”
Stiles frowns. “What? Of course, it’s not. Allison is the best bartender ever. She knows what my heart wants and needs. She’s gifted, not pathetic.”
“I meant about your breakup, dumbass.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, it’s not pathetic.”
Stiles snorts, staring out at the city as he leans on the balcony railing. “You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves, man. Admit it. I’m twenty-eight, stuck in a job that I hate, trying to find the person of my dreams so I can finally settle down, but instead–,” he cuts off, shaking his head. “I’m wasting my time. What am I doing wrong, Derek? I don’t get it.”
Derek looks away, leaning on the railing beside Stiles. Despite the warmth of the sweater, tiny little goosebumps erupt on his skin from the way Stiles leans into him for a moment too brief for Derek’s liking before pulling away.
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Derek finally manages to say, but this only makes Stiles roll his eyes. “No, hey, listen, you’re not! You’re a great guy. Think I’d hang out with you if you weren’t?”
“I always thought it was because of my sparkling wit.”
Derek snorts. “I think you meant to say despite your sparkling wit.”
Stiles smacks his stomach, making him smile. “Fucker.”
“Stiles, you’re a great guy and one day, you’re going to find someone who not only appreciates that but loves it. And your age is a number. I mean, look at me. I’m almost thirty-three.”
Stiles checks his watch. “Three more hours, buddy.”
“I think the most important part is to keep trying. You might strike out, but at least you’ll have tried.”
“Easy to say when you look like that,” Stiles points out, waving his hand at Derek’s general everything and it infuriates him. If there’s anything Derek hates more than cocky, drunk Stiles, it’s self-deprecating, drunk Stiles. Self-deprecating Stiles never sees what Derek sees; he sees the failed relationships, the minute insecurities, the inability to settle down.
Derek sees the Stiles that’s always trying and hoping for something more, the confidence he gives other people when they’re doubting themselves, and the ability to keep going. Derek sees the strong, loyal, honest version of Stiles and it really gets to him when Stiles turns a blind eye to all of that.
“So why am I single?” Derek asks instead. Truth be told, there’s only one reason Derek’s still single and he’s staring at it.
Stiles squints at him. “Why are you single? You can go to any bar and I bet you can get any guy to bend over backward with just one word.”
“We already made that bet and you already won,” Derek points out.
“Exactly! So why are you single?”
Derek opens his mouth to say it, to finally admit to Stiles something that he’s been wanting to say for close to two years now, but chickens out at the last second. “I don’t know.”
“Another Christmas, another lonely year.” Stiles sighs, gulping the last of his drink. “I’m gonna go inside and get another drink. Want a refill?”
Derek shakes his head. “I’m good with this, thanks.”
–
2:20 AM
“Wait, wait, wait,” Derek shushes him, making Stiles pout. “We can’t do this.”
“But Derek–”
“We have to name the baby! We can’t just call it ‘the baby’!”
Stiles looks at him with awe. “Dude, you are so right! What about Luke?”
Derek wrinkles his nose at him. He opens his mouth but closes it with a pop. “What if the baby is a girl? I like girls better. Means I can have a gun and pretend to clean it when she brings a boy over. Or a girl. Whoever she wants.”
“Leia!”
“We can’t call the baby Leia!”
“Why not?”
“Because! No, wait, because, that’s gonna – hic – our dog’s name!”
“We have a dog?” Stiles gasps, nearly knocking over the red cup. He leans over, smacking both his hands on Derek’s face and holding it tightly. “Der, you can’t lie, kay? We have a dog?”
Derek almost stumbles back at Stiles’s weight but manages to right himself. “Of course we have a dog, idiot. What family with kids doesn’t have a dog?”
Up close, Stiles’s eyes are very shiny and brown. They may also be sparkling.
“Der, we’d be a family! That’s all I’ve ever wanted!”
Derek hiccups again, blinking his eyes. He feels himself leaning over onto Stiles but Stiles steadies him. This is nice, he thinks. It should always be like this. Derek falling over and Stiles catching him.
“I’d always catch you, idiot.”
“Huh?”
“You just said–no wait, back to Leia the puppy. No, wait, before that. If Leia’s the puppy, what do we name our baby daughter?”
Derek thinks for a second. “Can we name her Natalia?”
Stiles gives him a hopeful look. “Natalia Claudia Stilinski-Hale?”
Derek beams. “ Yes!”
–
11:24 PM
“Excited for the big 3-3?” Stiles asks, humming pleasantly.
Derek shrugs, looking at him through his periphery. “Age is but a number.”
Stiles laughs. “C’mon, seriously.”
“What’s not to enjoy? I’m gonna be 33, I’ll be a real adult–”
“I thought that happened at the big 3-0?”
Derek snorts. “Apparently we didn’t get that memo.”
Stiles laughs. “Damn straight.”
“I’m–I’m just so happy, y’know? Like despite all the shitty stuff that we’ve all been through. I’m so glad I get to look around that room–” Derek says, pointing at the living room behind them. “–and see all the people that I love and care about and know that I get to have them all for another year. That I got to have all of them for 33 years and I can have them for another one.”
Stiles gives him a considering look, before slowly breaking out into a smile. “Dude, you’re so drunk. You’re getting all cheesy and shit.”
Derek shoves him half-heartedly, making him giggle. “Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!”
2:30 AM
“We should go adopt Luke or Natalia right now!” Stiles says after a few minutes of quiet, making Derek lose his train of thought.
“Hm? Whazzat now?” Derek squints at him. “Who’s Luke? Is that your new boyfriend?”
Stiles gives an exaggerated gasp. “How dare you, sir? I would never cheat on you!”
Derek gives him a dopey smile. “Good.” He pats Stiles on the cheek. “I’d never cheat on you either. I love you so much,” he emphasizes it by throwing his arms out, almost knocking Stiles down.
“Aw, bro! We’d be the best parents ever!”
“Obviously!” Derek grins before something occurs to him. “We can call this Operation: Bro Parenting!”
Stiles gasps. “Ohmygawwwwwd, yes!” He stumbles upright and punches the air. “Operation: Bro Parenting is a go!”
–
11:54 PM
“Dude, dude, dude,” Stiles grins at him. “You’re going to be 33 in like five minutes. Oh man!”
Derek nods. “I’m going to be so wise and old and you better listen to me. With age comes wisdom and I’ve seen the future, Stiles! I’ve seen, um, wait, you’re 28.” He starts counting on his fingers, blinking when his fingers don’t stop fusing into bigger fingers. He shakes his hands and smiles when everything’s normal again. “Yeah, I’ve seen like five years of the future, Stiles!”
Stiles’s mouth drops open and all he can think of is how pretty Stiles’s lips are and how much he just wants to touch them and kiss them and–
“Do we still have stuffed pizza crusts, Derek? There’s still Uber right? I don’t know how I’d survive without Uber, Derek!”
“There’s still Uber.”
“And stuffed pizza crusts?” Stiles asks hopefully.
“ Duh, and even if there weren’t, I’d make them for you. Those are supposed to be better for you anyways.”
Stiles gives him a shy smile. “You would?”
“Duh.”
“Hey, Derek?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy birthday.”
–
2:45 AM
“Wait, how do we adopt a baby?”
Derek thinks about it for a second. “I think we go to the baby store?”
“But it’s nighttime!” Stiles cries. “It’s probably closed now!”
Derek pats him on the head. “It’s okay. We’ll go first thing in the morning. That way, we’ll beat the – hic – crowd and get the best one.”
“You’re a genius.”
–
1:20 AM
“Okay, you’re cut off,” someone who looks oddly like Scott says, taking Derek’s drink away.
“You can’t do that! My mom said never to waste food or drinks and I still have so much left!” Derek argues. “Also, tell your Scott #2 to stop. When did we get two of you anyways?”
“Yeah, bro, you can’t waste alcohol,” Stiles says wisely. He tries to reach out for the drink but Scott #1 – the rude one – does something with magic and suddenly, the red cup is gone.
“Woah, when did Scott #1 learn magic?” Derek whispers to Stiles.
“I think Scott #2 taught him.”
“True. Okay, Scott #2 can stay,” Derek declares. “I’m the birthday boy and what I say goes.”
“Huzzah!” Stiles crows.
“Yeah, you’re cut off too,” Scott #1 says and takes Stiles’s cup away but Stiles doesn’t even care. In fact, he smiles happily at Scott #1 and then winks at Derek.
Derek grins dopily and elsewhere, Scott #1 and Scott #2 facepalm.
–
2:05 AM
“You’re my bestest friend, Stiles.” Derek says. “I wish – hic – I wish we could just be one, y’know?”
“Like one person? Dude, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. That’s too much awesome in one person. The world isn’t ready for that.”
Derek nods wisely. “You’re right. Okay, we can be two people. But we should like be one unit. Like a furniture unit. Oh, oh, like a bookcase! You’re the shelf and I’m the, um, like the case without any shelves. So we’re both kinda useless but when you put me and you together, we can be a bookcase!”
Stiles claps his hands. “I’d love to be bookshelves with you! But, like who can we get to be the books?”
Derek thinks about that for a second, before snapping his fingers. “Babies!”
“Babies are books?”
“Yeah, like we can get a bunch of babies and they can be the books on our bookcase and all together we’d be the prettiest bookcase in the world!”
Stiles nods with a big smile on his face. “Yes, and we should be the classy bookcase. Like not some shitty Ikea Billy case. We should be an elegant, hand-crafted mahogany bookcase.”
“ Yes! ” Derek agrees. “Wait, but we don’t have girl parts. How can we have books without girl parts?”
Stiles gasps loudly, jumping in his spot. “We should adopt the books!”
“Yeah?”
“Dude, admit it! We’d be great parents!”
–
The next afternoon, 2:33 PM
Derek opens his eyes for less than a second before he shuts them, yanking the blanket over his head and curling up in a fetal position. Too much brightness, too much sun, too much everything. Jesus Christ, what the hell did he do last night?
He lays in bed for a solid twenty minutes, trying to get his head to stop feeling like it wants to melt into a puddle, before pushing the blanket off and slowly opening his eyes.
“Did I drink my entire apartment last night?” he asks, not expecting anyone to answer.
Which is why he jumps when he hears Laura snicker and say, “Um, yeah. Also, Stiles is here.”
At that, Derek immediately sits up, heart thudding so loudly he’s sure Laura can hear. “Stiles is here?”
“Stiles is here.”
“Why?!”
Laura raises a brow at him and motions to the living room. “I think you should see for yourself. You should probably put some pants on first though.”
Derek frowns, but does as she says, hands shaking the whole time. He tries to think of what happened the night before but comes up short. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know how he ended up in bed. All he can remember is being out on the balcony with Stiles and drinking. A lot.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he gets to the living room but he can honestly say that a black husky puppy with a red and silver bow around his neck, jumping up at the sight of Derek isn’t it. The puppy runs straight to Derek, tumbling into his legs, hopping onto its back feet and reaching up.
“What the–,” Derek asks, leaning down to pick up the puppy, checking to see if it’s a girl or boy. It’s then that he notices Stiles standing in the corner, biting his lips with nervousness. “Stiles, why is there a dog?”
Laura snorts. “Um, as much as I’d love to watch this happen, I’ll give you two sometime.” She winks at him before whisking off into her room. Stiles clears his throat, fingers fidgeting and looking oddly out of place in an apartment he should be very comfortable with.
Derek looks between the puppy and Stiles, still stunned.
The silence stretches over for too long before Derek finally clears his throat. “So, the puppy is for…?”
“That’s Leia,” Stiles squeaks. Derek frowns, because that name sounds weirdly famil–
“Oh my god,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut from the embarrassment as the memories from last night flood his brain.
“I–you–the baby store was closed today but I remembered Deaton had the puppy and she always reminded me of you whenever I saw her and I went this morning after to see if she was still there because then it would be a sign, y’know, from like the universe. And she was! She was there and Deaton was there and I was there and all I could think of was you and what we talked about last night and it just made sense. Oh, happy birthday, by the way,” Stiles rambles, eyes widening in horror at the word vomit.
Something like hope flutters in Derek’s chest. “So you got me…Leia?”
“I-I don’t think we’re ready for Luke or Natalia, but oh Jesus, I really didn’t think this through, did I?” Stiles trails off, looking mortified. Derek smiles slightly, clutching Leia tighter to himself.
“We?” Derek asks, just to be a little shit, but his smile grows bigger when Stiles flushes. “I don’t remember being asked to be a ‘we’.”
Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “Today’s Christmas, asshole. You can’t just read between the lines and save me the embarrassment?”
Derek smirks. “It’s my birthday first. I can do whatever I want.”
Stiles snorts, shuffling his feet adorably. He peers at Derek, giving him a thoughtful look. “Technically, you already asked me to be a bookcase with you remember?”
Derek looks at him, bemused, before it clicks and he flushes. “Oh fuck off.”
Stiles gasps, covering Leia’s tiny ears. “Language, Derek! We have highly impressionable minds here!”
“I hate you.”
“Liar, liar,” Stiles sings.
“For the record, I don’t want to be bro-parents with you,” Derek murmurs, staring intently into Stiles’s eyes.
“That’s cool. I don’t either,” Stiles whispers, all shy and cute. He scratches Leia behind the ear, making her yip happily. Derek leans closer to Stiles, shifting just slightly so Leia doesn’t get smushed between them. “I guess I’ll settle for being real parents with you someday.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Stiles admits sheepishly. “I guess I never really let myself hope that I could have you. It was just easier to keep looking elsewhere; it hurts less when someone you’re not really into rejects you.”
Derek looks down at Leia, heart full of warmth and happiness. “I’m glad you tried one more time. I have a feeling it’ll be the last time you’ll have to.”
They grin at each other and Derek finally feels it; that sense of completeness that he’s been aching for.
“Happy birthday, Derek.”
“Merry Christmas, Stiles.”
Hi i just wanted to leave this silly fun prompt with you to see if you can use it. Stiles is so surprise none of his neighbors have called his dad and complained about the loud slightly off tune singing that can be heard outside the Sheriffs house every night always around 3 am. Stiles himself finds it amusing and cute that the mighty Alpha Derek Hale chooses to sleep serenade Stiles with cheesey 80’s love ballards.
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: G, Word Count: 1510
Love Confessions, Fluff, POV Stiles
♥
Read on AO3The front entrance to Derek’s apartment building opens, revealing a broad figure in the lights from the hallway. Stiles checks his watch and snorts. Derek is way more punctual when asleep than awake.
For the past two weeks, two or three times a week, Derek has sleepwalked to Stiles’ house, always arriving around 3am. It’s almost a twenty minute walk from the loft to the Stilinski residence, which means that Derek usually steps outside between 2.30 and 2.45.
Stiles slides out of his car and softly closes the door, wincing when the hinges groan. He trails behind Derek as they walk to his house, close enough that he can intervene if necessary, but far enough away that he knows he won’t wake Derek up. When they arrive at his place, he sits on the porch steps, pulls out his phone, and waits. Derek usually stands beneath his window for a minute before he starts.
Derek takes the tell-tale breath in, and Stiles presses record.
Stiles had thought something was very wrong the first time he woke up to singing at 3am. He ran to his window, saw Derek right underneath his window, swaying lightly, then almost stumbled over his own feet in his hurry to get outside, certain Derek had been cursed.
Slowly and carefully, he’d approached the man, but Derek gave no sign that he knew Stiles was there. When Stiles saw that Derek was wearing only flannel pyjama bottoms and a tank top, he’d gotten even more worried. He’d tried to get Derek’s attention, called his name, waved his hands in front of Derek’s open eyes, but nothing he did got a reaction. So he waited it out, and when Derek stopped singing and started walking, Stiles followed him. He’d followed Derek all the way back to his apartment, then gone home and not slept a wink that night.
He’d stayed up, trying to figure out what might be going on. He checked every reliable source for a curse or a spell, and when he couldn’t find anything, searched for normal, non-supernatural causes. By the end of his research binge, all Stiles had figured out was that Derek was sleepwalking. Which wasn’t helpful at all, because a) that part was obvious; and b) sleepwalking is usually a symptom of a bigger issue.
There are roses on Derek’s doorstep.
No note. No scent trail. After determining that there is nothing inherently magical or deadly about them, he spends the entire rest of the day researching symbolism and archaic demon customs, trying to figure out what kind of death threat he’s just been handed.
It doesn’t occur to him until nightfall, when the neighbors start discussing their romantic dinner plans at a decibel he has trouble tuning out, that he realizes the flowers might not have been delivered with malicious intent.
Because, apparently, today is Valentine’s Day. And apparently someone decided that Derek should receive flowers to celebrate the occasion.
Derek Hale has a secret admirer.
He honestly would have preferred the death threat.
the blazing bombardier.
Idk, this is just a summery fluffball of a Sterek getting-together drabble because I’m tired of winter. ¯_(ツ)_/¯
Derek fundamentally doesn’t understand people who like roller coasters.
He knows such people exist because he’s been standing in line with them for the Blazing Bombardier for half an hour now, but even when he’s looking right at them, it’s hard to believe. Seriously, why. The list of things to do on a Saturday afternoon that don’t involve screaming and trying not to hurl is literally infinite. He could be lounging around in his pjs in his dorm right now and rereading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, just for example. Or working out, or going for a drive to the beach, or watching a movie with Boyd and Erica. (Boyd and Erica are officially his favorite people right now because, unlike his sisters, they understand the basic concept that friends don’t make their friends who lose bets ride the most terrifying invention since clown costumes.)
The line moves forward, and oh god, now Derek can actually see the loading station. The seats are wicked-looking hanging harnesses painted to look like flames. He’s going to be sick before he even sits down in the thing.
Stiles/Jackson + ‘Every morning you walk in and inhale deeply then walk back out seriously just buy something already’ AU
@ericadays I hope you like it! ❤
***
“He’s back again.”
Stiles looked up at Kira’s voice, moving to the front of the
counter. The guy was back again, looked ridiculously handsome in a floral button up
and tight jeans. He had a jaw and
cheekbones to die for and Stiles bent forward slightly, leaning his elbow on
the counter and cupping his chin in his hand, mirroring Kira’s pose.Together, they watched him take one step further into the
store, glance around at all the shelves of books before blue eyes settled on
Stiles. He and Kira both lifted their
other hand, fluttering their fingers in a wave.
The guy blinked, took a deep breath, and then turned and walked out
again, the bell chiming a jaunty note as the door swung shut.It was the same thing he’d done for five consecutive days
now. Yesterday, he’d done it again in
the afternoon. Stiles hadn’t been there
for that, but Kira had been eager to tell him about it.“I think he likes you,” Kira said, straightening to rearrange
the magazines on the counter.Stiles snorted. “What gives you that idea?”
She nudged him with her elbow. “Stiles, he always looks right
at you and his cheeks go all pink. I think he likes your scent. It’s cute.”Stiles glanced over. “You think it’s a werewolf thing?”
“No shit.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but the bell interrupted
them. He looked over, surprised to see
the guy had come back. Once again, he
took a step in, a frustrated frown on his face, and Stiles decided enough was
enough.“Hey,” he said. “Can I help you?”
The frown deepened. “What?”
Oh, but he
was cute.“Every morning, you walk in and inhale deeply, then walk back
out. Seriously, just buy something already.”“I…” He visibly collected himself, a smile stealing over
his mouth. “I’m not here for a book.”“My scent, right? Is that a werewolf thing or a ‘I wanna kiss
you all over’ thing?”If Stiles’ brazenness or knowledge that the guy was a
werewolf surprised him, to his credit, he didn’t show it. He just grinned, finally approaching the counter.“Both, I think. I’m Jackson.”
“Stiles,” he leaned against the counter, fingers lightly
touching Jackson’s. “And you can pick me up at seven.”
shealwaysreads 