You know that temporary amnesia after surgery prompt thatβs been going around? I wish fandom would get more creative with it. I mean, hospitals are so limiting.
What if they were in the middle of a fight instead, running away from a baddie, and Stiles was trying to shake off the aftereffects of a spell or something? So theyβre dragging him along, trying to dodge bad guys, and Stiles is, like, completely confused and loopy. He has no idea whatβs going on. Thereβs a badass girl with a katana, Lydia Martin throwing molotov cocktails, a coyote running alongside them, andβand Scott! Who has monster entrails all over his claws - HE HAS CLAWS - and he says the guy half-carrying Stiles isβ
βWoah, my husband?!β Stiles yells, taking the man in from head to toe. βAre you sure?β
His husband - HOW! - grunts and rolls his eyes at Stiles and eviscerates a goblin with just one hand.
Stiles is impressed. Disgusted, but impressed.
βYou married me?β Stiles asks, forgetting all about the nightmare monsters coming after them. βBut your eyelashes are so pretty.β
The guy - his husband - lets out another grunt and picks Stiles up - like, literally HE CAN PICK STILES UP - and places him behind a tree.
βStay here,β he orders, with a resigned expression on his face that says he knows Stiles will not.
βOh my god,β Stiles says. βYou did. You married me. I married you. I married a fireman superhero pornstar!β
βSweetheart,β his husband says through gritted teeth - holy shit Stiles is in love - βStay behind the tree and be quiet.β And then heβs back in the middle of the fight, slaying monsters and roaring and basically being the hottest thing Stiles has ever seen in his life.
And then itβs over. The clearing is bathed in green blood, and the people - his friends? - are picking themselves back up, shrugging off bits and pieces of monster from their clothing, and Stiles has a pair of ridiculously strong arms around him, a nose buried in his hair, a kiss pressed against his temple.
He could get used to this.
Which, Scott apparently doesnβt want him to, because he says, βWe need to get out of here,β and Stiles is suddenly being thrown over someoneβs shoulder and woah, hello.
βScott, oh my god. Look at my husbandβs ass!β
βIβd really rather not, buddy,β Scott says. The katana girl laughs.
βItβs a work of art!β Stiles gushes. βBelongs in a museum! But no! Itβs a Stilinski exclusive!β
βIβm going to drop you on your head,β his husband warns.
βCould help with the amnesia,β Scott chimes in.
βYou wouldnβt,β Stiles says smugly. βYou loooooove me.β
The hands around his legs tighten. βGod knows why,β his husband grumbles.
Stiles canβt stop smiling, staring around the room. His room! In his apartment! That he shares with his husband!
βThis is so cool,β he slurs. βSo cool.β
βMmm-hmmm,β his husband says, tucking the sheets around him tightly, and then climbing over him to take the other side of the bed.
βYouβre really real.β Stiles runs his palm down one stubbly cheek. So handsome.
His husband, the handsome monster slayer who wears soft jammies to bed, catches his hand and kisses his palm. βYouβll be fine in the morning,β he says.
Stiles pulls him closer, snuggles in, and completely forgets to ask his name.
yousharknotpass
snowghoul
romaincrisis
dededos
turnnoffyourmind
