#lilredalpha

[captainamericarogers]

"What did you just call me?"

[therunawaybeta]

lilredalpha replied to your post:lilredalpha replied to your post:am i the only one...

He has like baby Chris’ eyes and Baby Peter’s lips. It’s the petopher shipper in me, but I honestly thought Parrish was going to be Peter’s kid

You adorable little shit. Could always tell your petopher heart that him and jackson are peter's kids and that's why Parrish is there. -pets you head-

[therunawaybeta]

lilredalpha replied to your post:am i the only one that thinks jackson and parrish...

Parrish is baby Chris and Baby Peter

What!?

[momomomma2]

Stiles/Deucalion possessive? :3

Send me an emotion and a pairing and I'll write you a drabble

Possessive

It’s shocking—or maybe not so—that the pack doesn’t say anything to him. No, they let Stiles live in blissful ignorance.

Danny isn’t that nice.

“Dude, what did you do to yourself?”

Stiles jerks around at Danny’s incredulous voice, stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder and Danny poking at the sensitive skin of Stiles’ lower back. He jerks and hisses, a lot like a kitten getting water poured on it, but Danny doesn’t let him go or stop poking at the sore skin.

“I didn’t do anything! Danny, dude, personal space?”

“Looks like someone carved something into you then.” Danny finally lets go and steps away, grabbing his back and striding out of the locker room, tossing a “check the mirror, and your boyfriend” over his shoulder.

Stiles huffs his way over to the mirrors, twisting and turning once he’s in front of it and flushing bright red at the sight. There, in the small of his back, looking angry and red but obviously healing, is a small triskelion. And not the pretty spiral one Derek burned into his skin, no, a harsh, hard angled one.

Deucalion’s triskelion.

Stiles vaguely recalls the light scratch of an inhuman nail against his lower back as he melted into the comfort of Deucalion’s bed, slipping towards sleep quickly under the devastating combination of fantastic orgasms and Egyptian sheets. It’s that thought that propels him back to his bag, digging through everything in it to grab out his phone, punching at the contact and waiting angrily as it rings through.

Deuc’s voice, when he picks up, is vaguely amused and confidant, like he knows what Stiles is calling about.

Asshole.

“Stiles, darling. Isn’t it a bit early for you to be home? Don’t you have that silly sport practice?”

“It’s lacrosse, it’s all rough and angry, you’d like it if you actually gave it a-No!” Stiles actually pulls the phone away to glare at it, unsettled by how easily the wolf can get him off track, before pressing it back to his ear. “Do not distract me. Why did you carve a freaking triskele into my back?!”

“If I had carved it, you would have been calling me much sooner,” Deucalion counters easily. “Now I will admit that I scratched one into your skin. In preparation, of course. You should never get a tattoo without first knowing what it’s going to look like on skin.”

“I—I am not—listen, you—ugh!” Stiles slumps back against the lockers, rubbing a hand down his face as he tries to process everything Deuc just said/implied.

“I am not getting a tattoo. Remember, faints around needles? And we do not scratch things into people without permission!”

“You are mine.” Deuc’s voice takes on a hard edge that a year ago would have had Stiles pissing himself at the threat inherent.

Now? Now it makes little Stiles perk up and take notice.

Because fuck survival instinct, right?

“I know but—“

“And eventually my scent will not be enough. You’ll need a permanent mark on you to show people who you belong to. Be glad I’ll allow it there, to hide it from your father. Normally mates wear the symbol of their wolf on their wrist.”

Stiles huffs out a breath of frustration, ignoring the way such a blunt claim makes him go warm and gooey inside. There’s no point in discussing this with Deuc over the phone, his puppy eyes won’t work this way.

“We can talk about it when I get home, okay? The tattoo and the whole ‘where does it go’ thing.”

“Shower first.” There’s a click after the words and Stiles stares open-mouthed at the phone, the tone ringing tinny through the speakers.

Maybe this is one thing even his puppy eyes won’t get him out of.

Goddamn possessive werewolves.

[bigspoonxmalia-blog]

lilredalpha replied to your post:I WANT PETER! GIVE ME ALL THE PETERS! GIVE ME ALL THE FEELS!

Just followed you on my peter :D

followed back, bae! GIMME ALL THE FEELS, LET'S HAVE FEELS?

[sheriff-papa-stilinski-blo-blog1]

[text] Too lazy to booty call, so have this text instead

[text: Stiles] Uh Stiles???

[text: Stiles] I’m gonna go out on a limb and and say wrong number

[therunawaybeta]

lilredalpha liked your post:I forgot that I was going to start tagging Berica...

-stares at you also-

[bigspoonxmalia-blog]

lilredalpha replied to your post: I’m feeling so bad right now, I feel...

Feel better Dear

Thanks bby, I will <3