omg their hands, omg *^*

“Mieszko”

regarding this reblog on the fic I just posted:

sAME OMG HARD SAME 🤝🤝🤝

One of my alltime favorite headcanons is that Derek calls Stiles by the nickname “Mieszko” so I insert that into literally all my fics I think lmao 🤌

I like to imagine through any & all AUs or canon divergences that Stiles has only ever let 1 person in his life call him by his first name, & that person was his mom. Ever since then, his first name is offlimits, stored away in the dredges of his mind that he keeps buried because it’s too painful otherwise—until Derek.

It’s an innocent question that Derek asks at some point in their relationship, “What’s your first name?”, & Stiles tells him of course, playing it casual, steadying his heartbeat from the panic that automatically accompanies it now. It feels rusty on his tongue now, & it tastes a little like blood, but the way Derek echoes him, turning the word on his tongue with wonder, somehow soothes him & squeezes his chest at the same time.

He never tells Derek about his hangups with his first name, of course. He says he prefers Stiles because it’s short, simple, feels more like him, plus he doesn’t have to explain how to pronounce it to literally everyone—all of which are also true.

Nothing really changes. Derek still calls him Stiles.

Until it does change, and randomly, reserved for quiet moments, for mundane everyday moments, Derek begins calling him “Mieszko” from time to time. When he makes Stiles coffee, when he greets Stiles in the morning, when he snuggles with Stiles in his arms and when he keeps Stiles in his bed.

Stiles’ heart races everytime. At first he thinks it’s from panic, dread—remnants of those last memories of his mom—& he doesn’t know what to do about it or what to tell Derek.

But then he realizes it’s not that.

It’s fear. It’s longing. It’s joy. All in one, like a flashing warning signal that he’s let someone get closer to him than ever, let someone inside his walls of sarcastic wit and jokes that he’s not even completely aware he put up.

Derek wakes up in the morning with bleary eyes, limbs entangled amidst Stiles’, & murmurs a sleepy “‘Morning, Mieszko,” & Stiles wants to cry.

The more Derek calls him that, the more it dawns on him. It feels intimate. It feels raw.

And despite it all, it feels…safe, & Stiles knows what that means. He’s long passed that warning signal. Before he knew it, home has become inside Derek’s arms. Home has become the way Derek calls his first name, that personal nickname that he’d never let anyone else use.

His heart never fails to skip a beat when he hears Derek murmur “Mieszko” in that rough, velvet voice of his, always soft, always tender, no matter how much time passes or how many times Derek calls him by that name. His chest squeezes and his body warms.

Sometimes he wants to cry.

Other times he wants to laugh, because perhaps the best part is that Derek has no clue about any of this, how much it means to him.

No, for Derek, calling him “Mieszko” is simply another way of his many ways of expressing his wholehearted affection, never holding anything back because despite all that Derek has suffered, he doesn’t know how to hold back, still oh-so-soft on the inside.

And Stiles loves him all the more for it.

thank you for listening to my TED talk, im not normal about this LMAO ndsnnssj

Imagine Stiles and Derek are talking all the way to the bathroom where Derek asks “Are you going to stay and watch me shower?” Stiles turns and leaves. Derek starts to undress when suddenly Stiles reappears with a chair and takes a seat. Derek looks confused and asks, “What are you doing?” Stiles, completly nonchalantly, replies “Watching.”