Stiles gulps as Derek opens the black box and stares at the silver engagement ring with wide eyes.
“This is private property,” he says, reading the inscription. He glances up at Derek, who is still on one knee. “That’s the first thing that you’ve ever said to me,” Stiles remembers.
“We’ve had a complicated relationship,” Derek says. “It hasn’t always been easy but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
Stiles smiles. “Are you sure you want to marry me? I always leave my dirty socks lying on the floor.”
“I think I’ll manage,” Derek replies.
“Well then, Mr. Hale. Looks like you’ve got yourself a fiancé.”
"And don’t think I didn’t notice how you basically made a ring that lets the whole world know I’m taken."
"I have no idea what you’re talking about," Derek denies, not making eye contact.
"Uh-uh," Stiles nods. "You are so lucky I find werewolf possessiveness a turn on.”
WVHGEDAQQ VGGTB !!!! sirvjseopvc swsxcjfjfvoi ndhfxjfvxpldfc!!!!!!
Stiles was never going to open his mouth again. “Do the research yourself for once Derek! I’m not your personal walking talking Google!”
Now he regretted saying that because for the past week… that’s exactly what Derek had been doing. His own research, without once consulting Stiles. It had gotten to the point where Stiles started putting post-it notes with giant black x’s on certain books to aid their alpha in his search for the monster of the week because he refused to speak to Stiles (and he knew how hopeless the pack was without his skills). He even printed off his own research and snuck it into Scott’s bookbag, knowing the beta would find it, play it off as his own research to Derek despite the fact that Stiles’ scent was all over it.
All he wanted was to be included again. He missed being the go-to guy for problems and, most of all, he longed to have Derek lingering in the shadows of his room when he came home - and that was concerning.
I was working on an edit and accidently flipped it
and wow I am not okay
the-faro-fixer: #I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel it too #Stiles says #and he should feel victorious for winning the argument when Derek looks away #but when Derek flexes his fingers and steps away all he feels is the coldness of loss #sometimes the truth doesn’t set you free it merely reveals that you’ll always be a prisoner #Teen Wolf #derekstiles
At the honeymoon resort, someone makes the mistake of asking for the proposal story. It’s meant innocently enough, the type of thing most couples are more than happy to gush about.
Stiles snorts into his glass and Derek’s eyes narrow. He makes a pointed noise that’s probably meant as warning, but Stiles just puts down the glass and leans across the table, smirking.
“Which one would you like? We’ve got two hundred and fourteen of them.”
Stiles gets that Derek’s not exactly Mr. Communication. That’s something he learned to accept about half a decade ago. Sometimes he even likes it – the fact that he knows Derek well enough to work out his moods when no one else can, that he’s the only person that can squeeze past those walls he’s built up and actually get some real heart-to-hearts going.
That’s probably why these past few days have hit him so hard. Because Derek has been closing off, keeping secrets… and secrets can only mean terrible things.
Because Stiles has thought this through, ok? He’s not about to fall into some clichéd half-hour comedy trope of freaking out about their relationship, only for Derek to have been planning him a surprise party or something. But the dates don’t match up. His birthday was two months ago, Valentine’s a couple months before that. Their anniversary’s not ‘til the fall. Stiles hasn’t been promoted lately, has already graduated college, and there’s just no reason for this to be leading to some awesome reveal. Which means it’s completely reasonable for him to be freaking the hell out.
“Are you dying? Oh my god, you’re dying aren’t you? You’ve got some kind of horrible werewolf disease, and you haven’t told me because you know it’ll freak me out.”
“I’m not dying, Stiles.”
“Which is exactly what you’d say if you were dying and trying to keep it a secret.”
“Is there a new pack in town? Or witches again? Derek, don’t you dare fucking keep witches from me, just because I kind of got stabbed a little bit last time. If you’re keeping me out of pack business I swear to god—“
“I’m not keeping some threat from you, Stiles.”
But Stiles might just spy on his call log and discover he’s been talking to Danny, of all people. And Derek doesn’t ever contact Danny unless he needs some serious research done.
“…Are you gonna skip town?” He’s been thinking about it for a while, dwelling over the possibilities. Danny lives in New York, which is like Derek’s second home or something. And the group’s gone to him a few times about things like fake IDs and forged credentials over the years.
Derek looks up from his steaming omelet, snorting a little, eyes rolling.
“I’m not leaving you, Stiles. “
Stiles hadn’t said “leaving me.” He’d said “leaving town.” He hadn’t even thought about that, but if that’s what Derek’s mind had jumped to…
Fuck now I need a background. Any suggestions?
↳ "I think you two make a pretty good pair."
I am absolutely sure of this, believe me
I am absolutely sure that you are my soul mate.