The Wild Ones “I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”The Wild Ones  by hellohades
Erica and Boyd met the group at the edge of the woods. Allison drags Stiles further on while Scott and Derek lag behind, ever silent. Erica gives Boyd a knowing smile and the ebony boy snorts his acknowledgement and shakes his head with a smirk that radiates excellence. “Perfect,” he mutters under his breath. His girlfriend giggles. Derek groans a “shut up” under his breath—because he knows they know, and they know he know they know—right?
“Where’s Lydia?” Stiles asks once the group is semi-gathered. Lydia and Jackson are missing—and not that Jackson is important to the group’s movement or anything, but Stiles will always harbor a special place in his heart for Lydia—and when she’s missing from the group, it doesn’t feel quite as whole anymore.
Isaac cozies on up to Stiles’ side, looping his
The Wild Ones  part one of the Sterek seriesThe Wild OnesThe Wild Ones  part one of the Sterek series by hellohades
"If you're going through hell, keep going."
Derek doesn’t fight it. Honestly he doesn’t even really try. He might, on the odd occasion it becomes a public issue, but mostly he’s able to smother it beneath a stony glare or a soft growl.
It’s a tugging, aching, gnawing feeling, burning deep within his gut. His stomach erupts at the sound of the brown eyed boys subtle exhale, and even, sometimes, when the boy is tired and rubs at his eyes after long hours sitting in front of the computer screen, Derek has the urge to carry him off to bed and force him to sleep—to watch over and protect him. Something bubbles deep within his chest at the boy’s laugh, and sometimes, most of the time—actually all of the time—his heart beats so quickly against his ribcage when the boy walks into the room that he fears he’ll almost give himself away again and again—and worries that he’ll wake up with bruis