#it tries to lick stiles hair to make him look presentable

[casually-eat-my-soul]

You know what would be funny, let’s say stiles get bitten and turn into a werefox or a selkie or something. He’s panicking, running (or swimming) around the preserve in his shifted state and bumps into a wild feral animal. (Maybe a coyote, mountain lion, feral cat, mythical creature??) Said animal looks at stiles in his shifted state and goes “my baby”.

So now stiles has a feral animal mama, they get confused when he shifts back but after realizing that the stupid furless looking two legged things is indeed their son they are cool with it.

Derek having to court stiles with a feral animal as his “mother”. Like he accidentally says the wrong thing and stiles heart picks up and the animal decides to throw down with Derek. He hauling his ass as quickly away as he can.

I can’t decide if the sheriff and the animal are constantly trying to one up each other. — “I cannot believe I’m fighting a (feral) to parent my own child” — or if they are in league with each other.

The feral hates Peter but they do agree on judging other people.

[fuckthesworld]

POLAROID [ STILES STILINSKI x ISSAC LAHEY x READER ]

Warnings: smut, pure filth and smut, threesome, fem receiving oral, anal, double penetration

“Hey Issac,” you say one day, sitting down on the couch next to him, you have a proposition for him after Stiles mentioned his reaction to seeing the pictures he takes of you.

“Oh, hey, hi,” he stutters, his cheeks red, knowing you and Stiles were just spending time in the bedroom with his present. Issac is a great gift-giver, and you and Stiles have gone through way too many Polaroid films already.

“I was just wondering, and feel free to say no, but Sti and I were wondering if you wanted to see some of the photos we took with your gift?”

Issac thinks for a moment, but only because he doesn’t want to look insanely desperate and eager if he says yes right away, and just in case this is some trick from both of you, a way of seeing if he really did enjoy the pictures from Stiles phone so Stiles can kick his ass.

“Sure, yeah, only you know, if you want to,” Issac says, trying his hardest to keep his voice level and not sound too excited.

Stiles watching the interaction from the doorway, finding it incredibly endearing that Issac has such a crush on you.

Issac leans forward on the couch, adjusting his shirt to cover his crotch. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you reveal the Polaroids, five of them that Stiles picked, knowing they would get Issac riled up.  Issac loves your breasts, both you and Stiles know this because when all of you work out and you wear a sports bra, and only a sports bra, Issac’s eyes are transfixed on them in the mirror as you jog on the treadmill.

Issac takes the polaroids in shaky hands, eyes widening as his jeans tighten.

The first picture is a rather tame picture on most accounts. You’re on your knees with Stiles cock in your hand, staring up at him with innocent eyes.

The next is a little more out there, you’re wearing those pink nipple clamps and a ring gag.

The third is when Issac ’s heart rate really picks up and his breathing comes out in shorter pants. You’re laying on your back, rope intricately wrapped around your breasts, with two of your fingers in your mouth.

“You like that one?” You ask, smirking as you scoot closer to him and all Issac can do is nod while he licks his lips.

The fourth is of your fingers buried in your pussy, a full body shot, your breasts still wrapped in rope, your mouth wide open in a moan.

“You know, there’s something I’ve always wanted to try,” you say as he turns to the fifth and final picture.

“And what, what was that?”  Issac asks, his face bright red as he struggles to keep his composure, setting the polaroids on the coffee table.

“I’ve always wanted to be fucked by two guys at once precisely a brunette and blondie” you thrum your fingers against your thigh, waiting for Issac’s response.

“And Stiles is uh-,”

“I want to make my girl happy,” Stiles says, making  Issac nearly jump into the air. Stiles makes his way out of the door, around the back of the couch to sit by your side, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“Sti and I have talked about this a bunch, and we would love for you to join us,” you practically pur, moving your hand to rest of Issac’s thigh. The warmth from your hand spreads all the way to his crotch and he nods, gulping as he tries to find the most appropriate way to say he’s wanted to fuck you since you and Stiles got together, probably before.

“Now?” His voice cracks and he wrings his hands before running them through his hair, finally, finally meeting your eyes with his grayish blue ones.

“If you want,” you say, your hand running farther up his thigh.

“Can I touch you?”  Issac asks, eyes flicking between your own and Stiles.

“Please,” you whisper. And your permission was all  Issac needed, his hands are on you in an instant, pulling you into his lap.

Yours find his hair as he kisses you, it’s hungrier than Stiles normally kisses you. All of the nerves he previously showed gone now.

Stiles watches, getting hard as you start to grind down against Issac , his hands gripping your ass.

Your tongue is eagerly exploring his mouth, the first new territory since you and Sti got together what felt like ages ago.

You can tell Stiles is jealous because he hardly gives  Issac any time with you by himself before he’s standing behind you, brushing your hair away from your neck and kissing along it, marking you as much as he can. You’re positively soaked through your leggings and you can’t wait much longer.

Ever since you and Stiles talked about inviting Issac to join you a week ago, Stiles would constantly talk about him while fucking you.

“How’d you feel with both of us stuffing you full?”

“So filthy, can’t get enough of my cock now you want a second? Want  Issac and I to fill you up?”

“Want  Issac to eat your pretty pussy until you come over and over again?”

“Boys, I, ah, as much as I’m enjoying myself, can we take this someplace a little more comfortable?” You ask as you brush your lips along Issac ’s jaw.

“Course princess, whatever you want,” Stiles says, stepping back to give you a chance to stand up.

Issac however takes you both by surprise by picking you up, following Stiles into your room as you kiss and suck along his skin.

“Fuck, you’ve got a mouth on ya babe,”  Issac grunts as he sets you down on the bed.

Stiles kneels down in front of you, kissing your hand gently as you watch Issac strip.

You’re both eager but Stiles wants to take his time, make sure you’re on board with everything and completely comfortable.

“Baby girl, I asked how you want us,” Stiles says, pushing your thighs apart and helping you pull off your leggings, your underwear going right with it.

“I want, fuck,” you groan as  Issac finally takes his boxers off and you get your eyes on what you’ve been thinking about for a while. His cock is hard and he wraps a fist around it, slowly jerking himself off. You realize that he’s staring at your pussy, now bare and wet for him to see as Stiles tries to keep your attention.

He lightly smacks your thigh, sending a painful shiver down your spine so you focus on him.

“Need to answer me before we can do anything.”

“I want  Issac to fuck me, want you to fuck my ass, please,” you beg, the plug inside of you shining and catching Issac ’s eye as you start to buck your hips up off the bed.

“Why don’t you let  Issac eat that pretty pussy? Make you feel good while I get some stuff ready?” Stiles asks, standing up and gripping the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

“I’ll be right back, going to get a few things together,” Stiles says, kissing you sweetly before turning to Issac , “don’t let her come, got it?”

You whine low in your throat as you lay back on the bed, your feet dangling off the side.

“Why not?”  Issac asks, slightly confused by the question as Stiles just laughs.

“Because, her orgasms are so much better when she’s being fucked, and especially after getting edged a few times.”

Issac  nods understandingly before Stiles leaves the room.

“Now, what was this about eating your pussy?”  Issac smirks, kneeling down on the bed in front of you and gripping your thighs.

“Please, wanna, wanna know how you use that tongue Issac,” you beg, hips bucking up as he pulls you flush with his face.

Issac  only groans his response, his eyes watching your breasts as he laps through your folds, kissing your clit sweetly before fucking into you with his tongue.

You let out a groan when his hand easily finds the plug in your ass, gently pulling it in and out, making your thighs tighten around his head.

“Fuck, issac, god,” you struggle for words as he continues to eat you out, his lips finding your clit again and sucking on it as he works you open with two fingers, his other hand constantly teasing the plug inside of you.

You’re close, much too close and you consider not saying anything, he could let you come and  Stiles would be none the wiser. But even though he’s only touched you for not very long, Issac can tell by your body’s reaction to his movement that you’re close. He lets up on your clit, opting to kiss along your thighs and stomach instead, letting you come back down from your edge before teasing you again.

“Do you wear this plug often?”  Issac wonders as his fingers rub against your g-spot.

You’re gasping when his tongue laps at your clit again, a third finger fitting snugly against the other two.

“She wears it when she wants to be a slut, feel full while we’re out in public or at pack meetings, likes to sit on my lap and feel it inside of her, knowing only the two of us know about it,” Stiles says as he reenters the room with water and a granola bar for after. He sets them down on the bedside table and grabs the lube, sitting on the bed next to you.

“How’d you want us?” Stiles asks as  Issac stands up.

“Mhm, wanna feel you Sti, please,” you whine as Stiles sits back against the headboard.

”Then that’s what you’ll get, all fours for a moment, let me work on that perfect tight ass of yours.

Issac  groans as you eagerly maneuver yourself on all fours so Stiles can slowly pull the plug out and work his fingers into you.

He uses a generous amount of lube as he fucks you open with his fingers. Issac kneels on the bed and kisses you through it, his hands groping and playing with your breasts and nipples as you moan into the kiss. Once you start to fuck yourself back onto Stiles fingers, he knows you’re ready for more.

“Want to lean back, sit on my cock, baby girl?” Stiles asks, lightly spanking you as you moan.

“Please,” you whine as Stiles pulls his fingers out of you and suddenly you feel all too empty so you hurry backward, Stiles arm wrapping around your middle as he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pushing past the rim with a slight burn. Issac’s concerned for a moment, moving to cup your cheeks and kiss you softly, asking if you’re alright.

“All good, man, she likes the pain,” Stiles winks at  Issac as you whimper, slowly lowering yourself fully on Tom’s cock.

Issac  groans when he sees how your pussy is already dripping.

“Going to get you nice and ready for my cock, alright baby girl?” Issac says, his thumb finding your clit.

“Oh god, Issac, fuck me, please,” you beg as he begins to slide a finger into you.

You let Stiles and  Issac work you over, Stiles lips on your neck, Issac’s suckling on the skin of your breasts as he opens you up.

They both know you’re close when you clench around three of Issac’s fingers and Stiles swears as you get even tighter around him.

“Please let me come, need it so bad,” you whine, starting to grind back and forth against Stiles cock and Issac’s fingers.

“You going to be a good girl for us? Let us fuck you nice and good?”  Stiles asks, your legs shaking on either side of his as you grope for Issac’s neck, desperately needing to kiss him again.

You grip the back of his hair as you speak, Issac’s eyes darting from your wide ones to the way you keep licking your lips, “promise I’ll be so good for you.”

Issac  continues to fuck his fingers into you, gliding them right up against your g-spot while you bite back a moan, trying not to come without permission.

“Why don’t you come all over Issac’s fingers? Show him all the pretty sounds you make when you come?”  Stiles says, hands gripping your hips as he starts to fuck up into you.

Issac ! Fuck, fucking fuck, fuck,” you cry out as you come, feeling all too empty the moment he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Who knew you were such a sailor mouth?” Issac chuckles as he uses his fingers to cover his cock in your wetness.

“Mhm, as if you don’t love it,” you tease, feeling  Stiles bite into your shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Issac groans, taking a little bit to find the right position to fuck into you, but once he does, you’re so full you feel tears in your eyes, way more than  Stiles and a plug could fill you.

Issac ” you sigh, his lips meeting yours, like he couldn’t get enough of them, like this is the last time he would get the chance to kiss you.

You’re so caught up in the push and pull between  Stiles and Issac , how each time  Stiles would bounce you on his lap, Issac would pull out slightly, only to fuck you even harder when Stiles pulled out slightly, that you almost completely miss your next orgasm. Issac’s thumb finds your clit as Stiles hand tightens around your waist as he whispers in your ear, “come for us, princess.”

You scream both  Stiles and Issac’s names as you come again,  Stiles cock throbbing inside of you as  Issac continues to fuck you. You’re getting completely overstimulated from the marks all over your neck and chest to your pussy, throbbing as you try to come down from your high as Issac makes you come once again.

“Fuck, you feel so good when you come, baby girl, so tight around me,” Issac praises you as his thumb leaves your clit for a moment, giving you a small break while Stiles gets close, whispering absolute filth in your ear.

“Sound so fucking pretty moaning like a slut for us, can’t get enough huh? Want to come again? Come while I fill you up, princess?”  Stiles asks as you begin to fuck yourself down onto him again and Issac starts playing with your clit again.

“Please Sti, please come in me,” you whine and although usually you’re the one taking orders from  Stiles in the bedroom, Stiles comes when you tell him to, his hands leaving a bruising grip on your hips.

You can feel him leaking out of you around his cock as Issac gets close, lips firmly attached onto one of your nipples as he rubs your clit.

“ Issac fill me up, need you,” you beg, your voice barely a whisper as you come, his thumb finally letting up on your clit to come inside of you.

When Issac finally pulls out of you, watching his come dripping down your thighs, he’s mesmerized, this thumb rubbing your clit, sending more jolts of pleasure through your body.

“ Issac,” you whine, legs shaking as he pulls yet another orgasm from your body, Tom’s hands steady on your hips.

“How was that?”  Stiles asks as Issac’s fingers trail down your trembling thighs, gathering his come on his fingers.

You groan low in your throat as he holds his fingers up and you look at the white substance dripping down them. You’re overcome with the urge to suck on his fingers, so that’s exactly what you do. Both  Stiles and Issac watch with wide eyes as you grab Issac’s wrist and pull his fingers toward your face.  

“Fuck, y/n,”  Issac grunts as you begin to suck on his fingers, your tongue trailing along the skin, continuing to suck on them even after you got them clean.

“Filthy little thing huh,” Stiles teases and you swear he’s already getting hard again as you grind against him.

You finally release Issac’s fingers with a pop, lips wet and panting as you let go of his hand.

The room is silent as Issac continues to swipe through your folds, down your thighs, picking up a mix of his come and your orgasm as he goes.

By the time you’ve finally cleaned his fingers off completely and there wasn’t much of a mess between your thighs, Issac sits back, just staring at the way your pussy clenched around nothing.

“Hey man ?” Stiles says, patting your hip.

“Huh?”  Issac asks, getting pulled out of whatever hypnotic state he seemed to find himself in.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

MASTERLIST

[p4lparker]

I’ll Save You

It was scary. After everything we'd been through; Crazy Peter Hale, Hunters and a Kanima. This was by far the worst threat we'd faced.

Virgin sacrifices.

For who knows what purpose, but still at four sacrifices, we were beginning to worry. I'd try to go through the school day- learning as normal, but all of my focus laid with a blurred face of a mutilated teenager. The next victim. Scott was worried, we had no idea who was behind this, and anyone could be next. Well not just anyone, only people who hadn't done the do just yet. I'd been keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any sign of a clue or something to help us protect people, but I had nothing. Stiles was working over drive, writing on his crime board and furiously trying to figure out a pattern or a way to put an end to it all. But no dice, and I could tell he was becoming increasingly upset by that. We were in his room. I watched as he wrote something on his board then wiped it off moments later, I watched as he tapped his pen against his teeth. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, he tugged at the ends and groaned from the lack of inspiration and partially the pain I'm guessing. I stayed studying him from my position on the bed.

"Hey, we'll work it out- don't worry.." I said to him, trying to soothe his obviously frayed nerves. As he turned d to face me; I took my chance to really look at him. His face was pale, his skin looking as if he were ill, the bags under his eyes looked as if they had bags. I could see the stubble decorating the bottom half of his face, him being so focused on trying to keep people alive- shaving had slipped his mind. I saw the rumpled clothes covering his body, as if he'd just grabbed them from the floor, I saw the twinkle that was usually in his chocolatey gaze- was missing. All in all, Stiles Stilinski was a mess.

 "Yeah, we'll figure it out Y/N. But how many others have to die. Be sacrifices before we do. It might be someone we know next time... One of our friends! And we can’t do shit, cause we're a bunch of scared kids who are in over our heads. We can't protect anyone, especially not ourselves!" Was the snapped answer I received. I just stayed frozen in my place. My eyes wide and head angled back slightly in shock. I bit my lip, before I looked away from him. Not wanting him to see how hurt his words and tone of voice had made me feel. It was kind of lame, to be so upset by frustrated words; but Stiles had never, ever spoken to me like that. And it was a shock to the system to say the least. I looked down at the book in my lap, my fingers brushing against the page absent minded manner- trying to distract myself.

"You're right. I guess we should stop bothering then yeah? Let whatever it is take kids and murder them for no reason.. Other than them being virgins. Cause we're useless and can't win right?" I hissed, as an anger bubbled up inside me. Stiles had never spoken to me like that, and I wasn't going to let him start now. I let my eyes lift to watch as his shoulders tensed. “Maybe we should just throw all of this away and turn our backs on everything huh?” I stated, my voice getting stronger with each word- the anger fuelling me. As I shoved all of the books covering Stiles’ bed and my legs onto the floor. I stood up and stared at him-trying to prove a point before yanking up my bag and jacket. I flung open the door and stormed out. With each step I felt anger surging me further out of the house- it burned fiercely and forced me into my car, I drove myself home and settled in for the night. Slamming open the door, giving it the same treatment to close it. I stomped to my room- flinging clothes off as I went. Yanking on sleep clothes and throwing myself into bed for the night. I drifted off eventually, but it was into a fitful nights sleep.

The next morning I woke up in a similar mood to the one I went to bed in. I could still feel the rage simmering underneath my skin. Going through the motions of getting ready for the day; I soon arrived at school and was able to ignore Stiles in person, instead of just avoiding his messages and calls. Every chance I got, I avoided him. Not wanting to be near him until I calmed down. At the end of the day, he approached me cautiously; head bowed sheepishly, hands fidgeting with each other and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. And it made my heart stutter at how he presented himself. His body language screamed that he was asking for forgiveness, and I thought I’d let him stew a little longer for my own selfish enjoyment before granting the reconciliation I’d already planned to give him. I looked at him from the corner of my eye and with my books and bag; waltzed from the building and to the parking lot. I smiled to myself as I rest against Stiles’ jeep and waited for him to make an appearance. I watched as he walked to the car, head still bowed and fingers still fidgeting- but now with the keys, he hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Stilinski!” I called, watching as his body jerked in surprise. His arms flying out to ward off an oncoming attacker; not that it would do much good. His head swinging up at a pace that obviously gave him a crick in his neck from the way he gripped it. His gaze was wide and worried until he spotted me leaning against the hood of the car. I smiled slightly and moved forwards until I could wrap my arms around him- the sadness on his face made me wish I could squeeze it from his body, once his own arms squeezed me back. I finally sighed and pulled back from him. Nodding my head to the car stood beside us, Stiles smiled slightly and let us both in. He drove us slowly to his house, and parked in the driveway before he led us both into the house. We dumped our bags by the end of his bed, when we finally made it to his room.

 "Hey nerd, I forgive you. I get it. This whole sitch is messed up. And maybe you're right, maybe we can't help people or save them or protect them. But we can try!" I murmured as I noticed his hunched body. I ruffled his already messy hair as I walked past him on my way to throw myself at his computer. I let my fingers dance over the keys- I tried to delve into why virgins would be sacrificed. But at every turn I was stonewalled. Most of the websites or 'research' was made by hacks who were probably still in their Goth phase. It had been the same thing for the last hour. Either Stiles or I groaning in frustration, as we each hit another dead end in the research. We were getting nowhere and it was beginning to make me lose hope and my mind. I looked over to see Stiles slumped, his head hanging off the side of the bed and the book he was reading was lying on top of his head. He was defeated as his tired eyes looked up at me.

 "Any luck?" He all but sighed out, gesturing to the computer behind me. I shook my head and he growled tugging at his hair. I stood from his desk chair and flopped onto the bed landing on him. He let out an 'Ooof' as I landed on his back. I giggled lightly before rolling off him and landing beside him with a bounce. He turned his face to look at my own. His eyes still looked sad, his whole demeanour was that of a stranger- and it was beginning to drive me crazier than the failed researching.

 "Alright Stilinski. You're moping is making me want to punch you.. Spill." I stated poking his cheek with my finger, it following all of the freckles and moles that were scattered about his skin. He frowned before glaring at my prodding appendage.

"Gee, I don't think punching me will help. It would probably make me feel worse, I mean then I'd be in physical pain and I may even get a black eye or something, and that would just make my mood worse. Cause then I'd have to explain how I got beat up by you to everyone.. And that is just embarrassing..." Stiles began to ramble, his words flowing out of his mouth quickly, so quickly they made me dizzy. I cut him off before my head could explode by pressing my hand over his mouth and stopping his words escaping. His eyes were wide as I felt my own narrow. One of his eye lids dropped into a wink, which made me narrow my eyes further wondering what he had planned. Until I felt something wet settle into the palm of my hand and make a trail up it. I realised with a grimace, that it was his tongue. He'd licked my hand. He'd licked my hand like a 5th grader.

 "Ewww! You licked me!" I called out, whipping my hand from his face in disgust. Stiles just smirked sticking his tongue out at me in victory. I glared at him before talking him from the bed all together. We rolled until we landed in a heap on the floor. As we tumbled, he’d miraculously managed to twist and turn until he was situated underneath me- it was impressive, and he let out another huff of air as it was forced from his body by my weight landing on him. I stared at him from above and smiled brightly at his slightly pained grimace- before shoving myself off of him and pulling him up after me.

“How about we watch a movie.. Forget about the research that is taking us nowhere for now and just relax. It looks like you need it..” I suggested pointing to the Tv in the room. I’d already decided what we’d watch, all I needed was for him to agree and to actually relax for a while; maybe then he’s tell me what was bugging him so much. He just stared at me and nodded, a faint smile painting his lips. I pushed all of the books onto the floor and from his comfy bed; much like I had done the night before, but this time I was slightly more gentle about it. I grinned and gestured for him to leave the room- meaning he was to make the popcorn whilst I set up in the bedroom. I watched as he walked from the room,  he was muttering under his breath as he went. I smiled and set to making the bed comfy, I scanned the wrack of DVD’s on his walls grinning as the exact one I was looking for was in a prized position in the centre. Pulling it from the shelf and placing it delicately in the side of his TV- I let it play through until it got to the menu and selected the play movie section. I waited until he trundled back up the stairs and plonked himself down on the bed next to me. I heard a gasp and turned my head to face him, his face was covered in a broad grin- his eyes were lit up and sparkling, his teeth were showing and his dimples looked deeper than ever. Just looking at the happiness on his face was contagious, I couldn’t help but grin back at him.  We both settled in for the movie, not long into it I noticed Stiles wasn’t as into it as he usually would be. And my mind drifted back to worrying for him. I gently gripped his hand between both of my own, squeezing softly.

“What’s wrong Robin?” I whispered softly, still squeezing his hand. He turned to look at me, but this time a grin wasn’t covering his face. A frown was; a deep frown that furrowed his eyebrows, one that  made his chocolatey gaze appear muddy, one that made my heart ache slightly.

“I’m scared Y/N.” Was all he whispered back, I nodded and wrapped my arms around his shoulders- pulling him towards me and into a slightly awkward hug. I could hear him sigh softly, as his head rested on my shoulder. I wondered how I could make thing better for him, and my mind was coming up empty; his cool breath was causing goose-bumps to raise on the exposed skin. Biting my lip to ensure he couldn’t tell of the change in my body, I could feel the shivers wanting to wrack my body. Ignoring the feeling, and deciding to pull him closer to me- slipping one leg over his hips, one leg on each side of his hips. I let my arm circle around his shoulders, running my fingers through his growing hair- as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kept his head resting against my collarbone. “I’m terrified I’m next..” he whispered so lowly, I struggled to hear his words. I pulled back slightly, causing him to lift his head and look me directly in the eyes; his caramel gaze was solemn, and I thought I could see unshed tears shining within the depths.

“Scott wouldn’t let that happen. And neither would I…” I stated firmly, looking him in the eyes- I could feel the determined expression on my face. I watched as he shook his head, obviously not believing my words. I frowned, I would save him. I wouldn’t let anything happen to this beautiful boy I was wrapped around. An idea burst through my mind, and before I could comprehend my actions. His face was turned to the side, avoiding me- I moved my face in line with his own. Gently letting my lips press against his own softly; I could feel the uncertainty in his pouted lips, his head turning to face me once more. I pulled back slowly, looking to his frowned face to see his reaction. It was apparent after a couple minutes of silence and Stiles sitting completely still- which was a feat in itself, that he wasn’t going to make a move to either stop this or push it onwards. Taking in a deep breath, and settling my shaken resolve- I pressed forwards again. My lips pushed against his own, the fusion of our lips just as gentle as before. We kissed gently for what felt like eternity; neither of us pushing it, wanting to stay in that moment for as long as possible- lips moving with each other delicately. Our lips parted for seconds- allowing for breath, but they soon met again. It was like were both addicted to one another’s lips; his were plump and smooth, as they danced with my own. Stiles left a lingering kiss on my mouth, pulling back just slightly.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He whispered, his plush lips brushing against my own with every word he spoke- sending my mind fuzzy with the sensation, I tried to concentrate on what he’d said; but my mind was spinning quickly and slowly all at once.

“I’m kissing you.” I stated simply, before pushing my lips that last millimetre to meet his own. I wasn’t sure what he made of my response, but he didn’t stop kissing me. His hold on my waist was tight, his large hands squeezing gently, holding me to him as if he was worried I’d disappear. Shifting myself in his lap to get more comfortable, my centre coming into contact with his own. A whiny moan escaped our lips, I wasn’t sure who it came from- but it seemed like the sound had flicked some kind of switch in my brain. Gasping as his lips left my own, grazing over my chin and down to the skin of my neck. He pressed a kiss on the column- as if testing out some scientific theory, pulling back to see my reaction. I could feel my eyes were closed, and my mouth was open in a silent moan. He surged forwards and let his lips trace kisses down the delicate skin- leading towards my collarbone. When he made contact with the skin there, I let out the moan that was desperately clawing at my vocal chords to be released. He chuckled against my skin, before pressing one last kiss to it- his lips searching for my own. Finding their home against them, and pulling me into a passionate kiss. His tongue poking out to tickle against my bottom lip, I giggled at the feeling and let him in. Letting him map out my mouth, his tongue touching and tasting- dancing with my own. My fingers tangled themselves in his soft hair, pressing him more firmly against me.

His dexterous fingers traced over my sides, before settling on my hips- he pushed me down further onto him. Unconsciously pushing my hips back and forth on him, giving us both a delicious friction that had me wanting more; but I remembered this was for him. But as things progressed, I realised I needed this too. I needed to feel him and see him come undone- passion and lust shining on his face as euphoria washed over him. Pulling my fingers from his hair, settling them on his shoulders- feeling the soft material of his checked shirt beneath my excited fingers; I pushed the material to fall from his broad shoulders, revealing the white cotton t-shirt beneath. I pulled back from the kiss and stared into his eyes, tugging gently on his over shirt until it reached his wrists; he promptly let go of my hips, allowing me to pull it from his hands, letting my fingers wander to the hem of his t-shirt- I gently tugged it up. Stiles got the message, and aided me in pulling it up his lean torso; with each centimetre of skin that was revealed, I could see the smooth skin, taut and lean over the visible muscles- which jumped when my fingers made contact. Stiles tried to reach up and connect our lips again, but I denied him in favour of just staring at him. His pale skin, unmarked and tempting. His lean frame, tucking in towards his waist but broadening at his shoulders, his biceps bunched slightly as they gripped at my own t-shirt. His veiny forearms; which had stared in many of my day dreams, leading down to his nimble fingers. I could see a faint blush lighting his speckled cheeks, when I turned my glance to his face. Hi bottom lip was being wet by his tongue as it poked out of his mouth. I could feel his fingers delving under the fabric of my top, discovering the skin of my stomach. He tugged slightly at the material, and I lifted my arms above my head; allowing him to remove the top and drop it next to our bodies. His fingers traced over the skin softly, so softly it tickled and caused a giggle to bubble from my lips. He smiled at the reaction, before pressing his fingertips more firmly into the skin- he tickled me quicker, causing our joined laughter to ring out and drown the sounds from the tv playing in the background.

I pushed my lips to his, distracting his fingers from their task. They still rest against my waist and hips, but had ceased their movements; as his lips took over the movements. One of his hands runs up my body and lands on my neck- his thumb bracing my jaw as our lips move in synchronicity. I let my fingers trail over his torso; feeling the soft, smooth skin, tracing them further down until they rest against the buckle of his belt. I slipped the leather through the metal and let it fall open, before gently wiggling the button of his jeans through the hole- dragging the zip down it’s track. Stroking over the band of his boxers delicately- it was then that he gasped and pulled back from my lips; his caramel eyes dark with lust, holding a look of uncertainty as he stared from his open trousers and my eager hand- to my face.  

“What’re you doing?” He repeated, his voice cracking. I looked at his face; his eyebrows were furrowed as they tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I’m going to make you feel good..” I muttered against his lips, before pushing gently on his chest. Forcing him to lie on the bed he was sat on- I lifted myself from his slightly and heard a disappointed groan erupt from him. I looked up at his face, before dropping my lips to the skin I was desperate to touch. Kissing over his neck, biting at it and sucking a mark into his skin- proving he was mine. Before trailing lower, grazing over his chest- licking at the lines of his body. Gradually dipping over the definition on his stomach, licking lower until it traced over the waistband of his boxers. I placed my fingers in the front pockets of his jeans and tugged them down; them getting stuck on his hips, and thighs, and finally his knees. I struggled to pull them from his body for laughing so hard- his chuckles joined my own as he raised his hips and manoeuvred his legs around to help me. Once I had the material in my hands, I huffed out a breath before throwing the fabric away as if it offended me. Stiles was leaning up on his elbows and watching as I tossed the jeans away from me- sticking my tongue out as they went sailing across the room. I turned to face him again; and gasped at the sight of him, sat there and waiting for me to join him once more. I moved back over to him, straddling him once more and connecting our lips. He was more confident now, and let his own tongue play with mine quickly, I rest my weight on one hand before allowing my other to feel over his heated skin. Finally coming to a stop at the bulge in his boxers, pressing against it lightly- only to feel his jolt up to meet it more fully. I squeezed him through the thin fabric, trying to get used to the size of him with my hand. A needy whine bubbled from his throat, that made my hand take hold of him through the material and pump him gently. A strangled sound came from him, as wetness leaked onto the fabric and my hand slightly- a wetness pooled in my own underwear at the desperate sounds he was making.

Palming him with one hand, and letting the other pull at the waistband of his boxers- tugging them down and letting him spring free. His cock resting on his stomach heavily- drops of pre-come leaking from the pink tip, the colour almost matching the dusting on his cheeks. I cast my eyes back up his body- seeing his almost black eyes focused solely on me; watching me marvel at him and his nakedness. Not being able to hold back any longer- my tongue licked up the underside of him- tracing along the prominent vein, feeling every ridge before licking over the head. All I could hear was growling and groaning from above me; my eyes rolled up to watch him. His eyes were screwed shut tightly, his bottom lip was being bitten by his teeth and his arm was thrown over his forehead- fist clenched in mid-air, his other was fisting the sheets. I opened my lips, holding him at the base and slipped him inside.

“Oooh..” Stiles whined out. I let him get used to the feeling of being wrapped in my mouth, I gently sucked the head- and was rewarded with more pre-come leaking out onto my waiting tongue. I slowly slipped my lips further over him, taking more of him into my waiting mouth. Bobbing up and down his heavy cock slowly, the parts of him I couldn’t fit into my greedy mouth, I massaged with my hand. My pace quickened just slightly, moving over him at a steady rate. Tasting him more and more as he leaked, I flickered my eyes back up his body as my mouth moved up and down him. His hands were flapping in the air- almost awkwardly, and his eyes were wide staring down at me in wonder, his mouth was dropped open as noises continued to fall from his pouted lips. Growls, groans, moans and whines. All eliciting my own moans as I continued my work, I pulled from him slowly with a pop. Grabbing onto his hand- with the one of mine that wasn’t rubbing over him- and tangling his delicious fingers with my hair, securing it there before moving my lips back over him; his answering whine was needy and made me push myself further down on him before coming back up at a quicker pace. I could feel him thrusting into my mouth, trying to match pace- but he was struggling his lips stuttering when the pleasure got to much- our rhythm didn’t match, but from the desperate calls coming from him I wasn’t sure he minded entirely. His hips jolted more quickly, forcing himself further into my mouth; my throat gagging on him slightly, swallowing the tip of him- I let him thrust into my mouth until finally he filled my mouth with a loud shout. Swallowing his taste down, I moved up his cock gently- knowing he’d be sensitive until he left my lips softly.

I stared down at him; his chest heaving, stomach muscles twitching rapidly as he panted in and out. I watched his face, still scrunched in pleasure and slick with sweat, then I let my eyes drop lower to look at his still erect cock. I felt my eyes widen, a smile tugging at my lips to see him so eager and ready; resting hard and heavy against his lower stomach. I stood from my knees, Stiles opened his eyes and watched; as I reached behind me, flicking the clasp of my bra open, I slid one strap down one shoulder- then the other and let the fabric cage fall from my chest. I watched as Stiles sat up fully; his hungry eyes wandering all over the newly expose flesh, devouring the sight before him. Moving my hands to the fastening on my jeans and popping the button, forcing the zip down its track. And pushing the jeans over my hips and bottom; bending at the hips and tracing them down my legs- all the while not taking my eyes from Stiles’ awe-struck face. I was stood before him in some owl printed underwear; but I wasn’t embarrassed, I had never felt more sexy- than that moment with his desperate eyes tracing over my near bare body. Slipping my thumbs in the elasticated waistband and tugging them from my body- I stood before the Stillinski boy completely naked. His eyes were still wide and dark, and he raised his hands for me. I intertwined our fingers as he pulled me over him- legs either side of his waiting body. Pressing his eager lips against my own and beginning another bout of endless kissing; soft and gentle, yet hard and passionate all at the same time, it was confusing and addictive. I let my fingers find his weighty member again, stroking him up and down- moving him between our bodies. He was poised in front of my folds, I raised myself up; preparing to plunge him deep within me, completely lost in the moment. Stiles ripped his lips from me, panting and staring at me surprised.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He repeated for the third time, hands squeezing at my hips and halting my movements.

“I’m protecting you..” I mumbled, pressing a kiss to his pouted lips. Pulling away from him slightly, I stood from the bed and stumbled over to his bedside table; my trembling hands searched for the protection we needed- the protection I had almost forgotten in the rush of Stiles Stilinski. I stared down into the open drawer; desperate eyes searching in an almost panic. Before calming with my racing heart and laboured breathing as they spotted; and untouched and unopened package, extra large and waiting. Furiously ripping into the box and digging one out; I tore the foil packaging open before stumbling back to Stiles who was waiting on the bed. I pushed back on his chest again, sliding one of my legs over his hips and kneeling above him. I watched as he breathed out a shaky breath, my fingers finding his already leaking cock once more. Pulling the latex from the foil, I rolled it down him almost impatiently. Once he was covered and we were safe, I positioned him between us once more. Rubbing the head of him between my folds and gathering the wetness that was dripping down my thighs and onto his lap. His eyes were wide, and one of his fingers rubbed through the moisture that had leaked from my centre curiously. I held my position, his cock almost pressing into me- as he raised that hand to his face. He rubbed his thumb and fingertip together, as if testing the consistency of the liquid. I giggled slightly and his eyes widened to the point I was worried they’d pop from his face.

“Is this from you? Are you..w-wet?!” He asked amazed, as he watched me grin and nod my head. Before my brain could keep up with his movements; his fingers were pushing his cock out of the way and delving into my folds themselves. They played with the moisture gathered, smoothing it all around my core. Making me moan loudly and embarrassingly. His face was full of wonder as he continued to feel around within me, his fingers coming into contact with the sensitive bud within. The tip of his finger tickled at it inquisitively, rubbing experimentally in circles. I groaned and ground my hips onto his hand eagerly. The sounds of lightsabers colliding in the back ground was drowned out by the sound of his laughter.

“You’re really wet.. Wow.” He mumbled almost to himself, I laughed to, moaning towards the end of it as his fingers picked up their pace. It took all I had to grip onto his wrist and stop his movements; when all I wanted was to sub myself against him until I could feel myself quiver from the pleasure. I breathed out shakily, before pushing his hand away from my centre- I let my other hand pick up his heavy cock once more- positioning him at my entrance. Before surging down on him slowly. A strangled whine came from the beautiful, blissful boy beneath me. My mouth dropped open in a silent moan; a wide ‘O’ shape as he bottomed out within me. I held still, moments pacing as I could feel him pulse inside me; trying to get used to the feeling. I let him settle, before lifting up from him slightly- pushing myself down onto him slowly. Moving at a pace to allow us both the most pleasure, and to allow him to become accommodated with being within someone. Grinding my hips slowly in circles, his hands grasped at my neck- one cupping my jaw and the other pulling on the back of it. Forcing my lips to his in a desperate kiss, and manipulating my body so I was flush against him. Stomach to stomach. Chest to chest. Lips against lips. Kissing furiously as my hips rode him at a leisurely pace. One of his hands slipped from my neck, sliding down my body and squeezing at my naked ass- palming at the fleshy cheek; before sliding back up my body and giving my breast the same treatment. It was then I was forced to move quicker on him, forcing my hips to canter forwards and backwards; pushing us both closer towards the edge.

As our pace increased, our kiss broke. His mouth was wide open and he was groaning uncontrollably, I knew it wouldn’t take too much longer until he would be spent. I pushed my body up, hands resting against his heaving chest; before I pushed my hips as quickly as I could, whines slipping from my mouth to match his. Stiles, lifted his hips and thrust into me.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Before his hips stuttered and he called out loudly, his cock pulsing within me- and he was filling the condom. I continued to ride him through it, trying to prolong that feeling of ecstasy for him. Once he’d finished, his hands gripped at my hips and ceased their slow grinding. He was breathing quickly, his breath fanning against my sweaty skin- cooling it instantly, before heating it up again as his fingers caressed over it. We laid in silence for a few moments, neither of us moving- apart from Stiles connecting out hands and intertwining our fingers mid-air.

“Oh my God!” He murmured out. I smiled down at him, his face was red and covered in sweat; but I didn’t mind, it made him more beautiful to me, I’d just seen him experience euphoria, and it was all because of me. “Oh Jesus.. Th-that was amazing..” He laughed, a grin beaming from his tired face, I just nodded and squeezed his hands. “Wait.. You didn’t y’know.. finish?” Stiles stated, his face morphing from a gorgeous grin to a frown- that almost hurt my heart. I smiled gently and shook my head at him. Stiles’ face was set in a scowl, and he pushed his lips against my own- kissing me heatedly, making my pulse rise quickly. I was too wrapped up in the feeling of his lips almost bruising my own; to notice that he’d let one of my hands drop. And his fingers were working themselves between us. I didn’t know what was happening until I felt his fingers press and circle at the neglected bud with my still slicked folds, I was still wet- and getting wetter by the second as his fingers played with my core. He was experimenting mostly; seeing what would happen if he moved in a certain, figuring out which movement of his fingers would make me moan the loudest. Soon enough under his attentions, I was grinding myself into his hand- he was rubbing me to my end quickly and efficiently. Soon enough my hips were jerking quickly against his hand; quivering as I came. I whined as I felt the shocks running through my body. I breathed heavily into Stile’s neck, coming down from my high- he ran a hand through my sweaty and knotty hair,. “That’s better..” Stiles whispered, before dropping a kiss to my head.  He held my hands again, supporting my weight on his elbows and helped me to roll from his body in shaky knees. When I was situated, he sat up on the bed, with his legs falling over the side. He pulled the filled condom from himself and disposed of it in the bin by his desk.

He picked up his marvel printed boxers and tugged them on, before grabbing onto his red plaid shirt I’d discarded earlier. When he came back to the bed, he helped me to pull the shirt onto my tired but satisfied body, before tugging me back to him. Wrapping his arms around me and snuggling me close to his body- pulling the covers over both of us as we cuddled in silence.

“Thank you.” He whispered against my lips, we settled again. Smiling against his chest- listening to his heart beat which was beginning to slow to a normal pace now.

“I told you I’d save you.” I whispered as I watched him doze into a peaceful sleep, following not too long after him. Cuddled close to his body, with his mouth pressed against my hair. Stiles was safe, and that was all I could ask for.

[isaac-lahey-imagines]

Imagine #70 | Request #31 (Part 3/3 of Isaac Lahey x Alpha!Reader)

Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2 (might need to rewrite these two though)

Can I just say that you guys who stuck with this blog (and the Wattpad imagines) are the best? And to think I haven't posted in years and we've hit 6k+ followers when I came back?! I don't even know how you people are still here and loving the pieces I put out when I'm here cringing over the old works back in 2015!

Warnings: The usual when it comes to the Teen Wolf series, specifically the Dread Doctors' season, mentions of blood, bones breaking, drugs, needles, a few curse words, idk if this is angst? whump?

Word Count: 6k+ (it's probably the longest I've written omg)

Not much of a flashback or backstory (I'm out of words, I can't squeeze anymore juices out of my brain, my bad). As usual, this is note beta-ed and sorry for any mistakes! English isn't my first language :(

~

“No more, please,” weak cries fell on deaf ears as you were dragged down from one hall to another, the smell of disinfectant and rust overpowering your already sensitive nose and magnifying the headache that was present from when you took a beating earlier.

The sound of bare flesh skidding on the polished floor bounced off the walls as you tried to pull away and run from your captors, you did not care of the stinging sensation that radiated from the pads of your feet - the open wounds left untreated by the people who kept you in hopes that whatever was inside of you can take care of it on its own.

You were repulsed at the thought of them still being considered as people after what they have put you through - they were monsters.

“Just a little more, my dear.” One of the figures that held your arm sneered, the grip on your bicep tightening making you clench your jaw. You internally scoffed at this knowing well that it won’t be ‘just a little more’ with how long and how frequent it happened and will happen.

“She should be able to go through another round.” A voice, deeper than the feminine one from earlier, spoke up as you entered through the heavy double doors of a room - an operating theater you guessed from the setup. “Prep her.”

“Her vitals are stronger now.” The third person declared, their fingers flipping through the pages of the clipboard in their hands before glancing towards the monitor to one side of the room - an image of your anatomy on display with different colors corresponding to each system in your body.

“The less you struggle the faster this will be.” One of the doctors, the Geneticist, who dragged you to this hell hole hummed as she was met with resistance on your end while she strapped you down on the cold metal table, the leather rubbing your already raw skin.

Her patience with you was at a limit, she was close to just ending it - ending you. But they have already achieved so much with their craft that it would be such a waste of time and resource to start from square one.

“Remember,” The Pathologist warned as he walked closer to you once you were settled down. “The louder you scream, the more blood we take from you.”

The tears that fell from your eyes to the sides of your face tickled your ears at the threat, small whimpers coming from you were ignored.

“Might I remind you that the btch wakes up?” The Geneticist interrupted, irritation in her voice as she steadied your shaking right hand before inserting an IV cannula in a vein at the back of your hand and taping it in place. Looking up to her left, she reached for the device below one of the two bags that hung on the pole and unclamped its tube letting the mix of anxiolytic, hypnotic, and anticonvulsant start to flow down to you. She then turned her attention to the other bag beside it, a mix of amnestic, and myorelaxant drugs, and did the same - a near-perfect cocktail mix they specifically designed for you.

She reminded the other doctors that no matter how much benzos, relaxants, or other drug concoctions they pump in your veins, you will wake up in between operations screaming your head off while attempting to break free of the hold you are currently in. “No matter how much sedatives we put in her, her wolf is too strong-”

“It’s an animal-” The Surgeon spoke up.

“She’s an alpha, a pure one-” She argued again, almost growling at the hard-headedness of her co-doctors before she was cut off by the same person.

“An animal.” He spoke in finality. “We are humans - gods even! We are at the very top of the damned food chain.”

The room suddenly fell silent, your whimpers, the beeping of a monitor, and the hum of the machines somewhere in the room were the only things that could be heard as you started to feel the effects of the fluids injected into you.

The tension you felt from earlier began to leave your body just as your vision started getting cloudy, your eyelids feeling heavier by the minute. You didn’t notice the Pathologist holding up a syringe to the light, flicking the bubbles away with his middle finger and thumb a few times before the taste of rubber invaded your mouth with such force that hurt your lips, gums, and teeth.

The Surgeon that was above you, blocking the light for a few moments, had shoved the mouth guard in before he continued securing your head in the metal gear positioned above you. Your neck followed suit with a hard metal clamp attached to the table effectively locking you in place and soon, your whole body was completely immobilized with a loud click from the double lock clamps.

The tears continued to flow down the sides of your face as you fought the sleepiness, praying for this to just end. The dread of what is to come overwhelming you and making your body shake as much as the drugs and table’s hold on you would allow.

“I’m surprised the smart one hasn’t figured it out yet.” They exchanged small talk over your muffled screams as soon as you felt the sharp sting of a needle puncturing your skin and into your cervical spine; expelling whatever it was they created into your system for the nth time. Your ears hurt from the ringing in your head while your throat burned as the pain from the syringe radiated all over your body.

“I’m surprised her mate hasn’t.” The Geneticist replied with emphasis.

“My friends, let us not be complacent.” Their leader ended their conversation as he now concentrated on looking at the x-ray on the monitor showing the movement of the serum as it spread in you.

“We continue our routine - clean her up, wipe her to an extent and then return her. ” He added as he pushed more of the liquid in you with a press of a button by your head.

“Marcel, they will know, soon enough.” She pointed out. “She will start to have withdrawals if-”

“We won’t let that happen.”

~

Sneakers skidding on the floor as everyone seemed to scramble out of the way towards the door, eyes wide with fear looking at the figure in front of them.

“Y/N?”

“Alpha?”

Isaac watched as the massive wolf in front of them let out a deep growl with its teeth bared at the people that called her attention, the fur on her back and chest standing up making her look even bigger than she already is.

“Y/N,” Isaac knew that Deaton was the best person to handle all kinds of supernatural cases, hence, the title of Emissary to their pack. “It’s Deaton.”

Letting out another growl as you licked your lips, your tail flicked lowly behind you as your eyes darted to each person present in the room before landing back to one in particular who was too close for comfort.

“Y/N, hey,” His voice sounded softer, it almost made you feel a sense of comfort until his hand reached out to you and made you snap back and almost bite it off.

This instinctively made Scott pull Isaac back by his shirt to a safe distance, struggling a bit in his grasp as the beta did not want to be moved further away from you despite the situation.

“Isaac, move back,” Deaton warned when he noticed that the curly-haired werewolf was not backing down, a hand gesturing for him to move away from you. “She’s scared.”

“No, Deaton, she heard me. She’s there - Y/N,” Isaac argued before turning his attention back to you again, blue eyes already glassy as tears filled the rim of his eyes. “She heard me.”

Isaac tried to hold on to the hope that you were present underneath the wolf because he was sure he saw that familiar glimmer that was distinctly you.

Just as he attempted to reach out to you again with a whisper of your name on his lips, the same frequency you heard before rang in your ears making you seize up and drop to the ground.

“Agh! What is that?” Liam winced as his hands reached up to his head to cover his ears, eyes scrunching shut as he tried to will away the incessant ringing.

“What’s what?” Mason asked with confusion etched on his face as he looked at his friend then to Stiles and the others, the werewolves in the room in particular, doing the same.

Isaac did not care for the ringing he heard, witnessing you looking like you were being kicked or beaten as you struggled to stand up, the sound of pained screams, whines, and whimpers coming out of you pulled at his heart making him drop to his knees beside you.

His hands hovered over your form trying to figure out what to do while he avoided getting scratched by the large clawed paws that writhed with your body, Scott and Thor doing the same and looking over you trying to see where exactly were you hurting.

“Deaton,” Isaac called as he carefully placed his hand on your shoulder before hissing - you were burning up and the black color that coursed through his veins upon touching you wreaked of disease. “Deaton what do we do?!”

“What is that?” Thor asked in bewilderment as he saw what was happening with Isaac’s arms.

“Hold her still as much as you can,” The vet’s voice was calm despite the mess, going to one of the counters in the room and asking Stiles and Mason for assistance as he tried to collect what sounded like glass vials from the way it clinked in their hold.

Isaac heard Thor mutter an apology to his alpha as he tried to hold your hind legs down as much as he can, Scott doing the same by your torso and Isaac by your neck.

“Y/N,” Isaac continued to call for you as he tried to hold your front legs down. “It’s Isaac, baby - it’s me.”

“Hurry!” Scott called to Deaton as his eyes scrunched and a sheen of sweat already present on their foreheads, the ringing still present in their ears making it difficult for them to concentrate.

Just as Deaton returned and knelt by your side, carrying a stainless steel tray that contained what looked like multiple large syringes in it, the static ringing noise started to get louder making the supernatural beings in the room let out a pained groan and lose their grip on you.

It grew too much too quickly to bear, causing the lights and windows above your heads to shatter and engulf the room in darkness. As everyone ducked for cover, Isaac stayed by your side and tried to shield you from the onslaught of sharp glass descending on you.

It took a few moments before the ringing stopped and the feel of cold air entered the room, snapping them back to their senses as their eyes opened at the smell of blood it carried with it.

Isaac immediately sat up as he felt the cold tiled floor and not your warm body underneath him.

“Y/N,” was all he said before he sprinted out of the room, the others following behind him.

“How did she get out?” He heard Stiles behind him once they reached the outside of the clinic, Thor already looking around the perimeter of the establishment for any signs of you.

Isaac’s brain was running a hundred miles at what he saw and what had just happened inside, his lips quivering as he ran his hands through his hair and pulling at the roots in frustration. He sniffled as he tried to stop the tears from running down his cheeks with the heels of his hands. Exhaling, he closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing before turning to Scott.

“She’s not gone,” his alpha spoke, already reassuring him. “We’re going to find her.”

Just before Isaac could reply and shoot down the optimism his alpha had, a car screeched to a halt in front of them.

“Where is she?!” Lydia asked as she got out of the driver’s side, a frantic look in her bloodshot eyes.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” Stiles was immediately by her side, cupping her face in his hands. But Lydia only moved out of the way and turned to Isaac and asked again.

“We don’t know where she is. She disappeared right before Deaton -” Lydia was close to tears again as she groaned in frustration.

“They can’t get her back.” She said, sounding more of a beg as her voice shook a little.

Everyone in front of her stopped what they were doing and looked at the Banshee.

“Who’s they? And where do you think Y/N is?” Stiles asked before a few seconds later, realization hit him.

~

It was on the way to Eichen House that Lydia explained everything she saw that made her break all the traffic laws implemented in Beacon Hills just to rush to the vet clinic. Isaac could not shake the feeling that Lydia, a banshee – a herald of death, had visions of you in his arms already in eternal slumber. His wolf broke more than a little as she spoke more of what she saw, only a few words registering to him – Y/N, doctors, experiment, and torture.

Everything was a flash for Isaac now, he did not even realize that they were now in a tunnel under the mental facility planning on who was going where.

But once their strategy was laid out, Isaac wasted no time in trying to locate even the faintest of your scent in the damp and moldy tunnel he was walking through. He heard Stiles and Lydia speaking on the phone in his pocket that they'd found an office that had files strewn everywhere – files that specifically contained information about you and what they have done with you so far.

“Any luck finding her?” Lydia asked as Isaac heard papers being flipped on the other end of the line.

“Nope, not yet,” Liam replied.

“No, she’s not here.” Thor was next then Scott, all claiming to find only empty rooms and dungeons.

“Isaac?” Lydia asked after not hearing from him.

“None,” he answered, sounding defeated as he rounded another corner with you nowhere in sight.

Isaac could hear collective sighs as they continued their searches, his ears already drowning out what Lydia and Stiles were doing - occasionally spitting out questions of why’s as they continued to browse through what they found in the files.

His breathing became labored as his mind started to play tricks on him the further we walked down the tunnel, the source of light slowly fading the deeper he went.

Just as he was about to turn another corner, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He felt as though soft fingertips touched him, making his skin crawl as he turned around quickly only to find an empty space. But as he directed his attention to the other corner of the room, the colors on his face drained.

Amidst the mess of metal chains and torn blankets, Isaac watched closely as the figure on the floor took a raspy breath, eyes moving behind closed lids, lips mumbling incoherent words.

“Y/N?” Isaac slowly approached, the other members of the pack on the other line calling for his attention and asking if they heard him call your name.

At the sound of your name being called, your body went rigid. Your eyes flew open, widening as you saw a shadowy figure in front of you moving closer.

“Please, no more.” Your voice cracked from the overuse as you begged, the sound of heavy metal clinking together echoed in the empty room as you backed away slowly. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, please!”

Your frame quivered as you continued to plead, sweat mixed with blood trickled down your body as you attempted to make yourself smaller against the corner of the cell; failing from the sudden pain on the back of your neck that restricted you to move any further away from where you were.

“Y/N, it’s Isaac. I’m not going to hurt you.” Isaac ignored the voices over the phone calling for him, asking if he really found you. “You’re safe now, they’re not going to hurt you.”

Isaac almost expected for you to cower further away from him, but you didn’t – instead, you relaxed a little as his hand landed on the small of your back and the other on your shoulder effectively pulling you into an embrace.

As Isaac felt you release a breath before melting against his chest, his scent effectively calmed you down as your wolf recognized her other half. You both stayed like that for a while before he went back to examining you and what was behind you, more so what was attached to you.

Now, more diligent in his movements, his hands hovered over what seemed to be a tube attached to the back of your neck. He shifted in his kneeling position, careful not to jostle you, before taking his phone from his pocket.

“Something’s attached to her, I need to get it off-.” He informed more to Stiles and Lydia than to others present on the call.

“Don’t!” Lydia exclaimed, panicked at what Isaac was planning. “Not yet.”

“But she’s already hurting!” Isaac’s hands returned to your shoulder and back, holding you closer - as close as the tube permitted.

“That’s connected to her spine, Isaac,” Stiles added, warning him of what might happen. “If you remove it you might do some serious damage here.”

His attention turned back to you when he heard you whimper his name.

You were testing to see if Isaac was really there with you or if you were merely hallucinating again, not sure anymore of what was real after everything that happened to you for the past few years.

“Isaac?”

“Hi,” he smiled down when he pulled away from you a little, his voice shaking as he cupped your face in his hands. “I’m here.”

Your eyes focused on his face, blinking a few times before-

“No.”

That, he did not expect.

“No, no, no.” You mumbled repeatedly making Isaac more confused- were you not happy or relieved to see him with you?

“You shouldn’t be here.” As you came to your senses, you moved out of his grasp and pushed him away at the same time with the little strength you have left.

“Y/N, we came here for you. What are you talking about?” Isaac was hurt, you can see it in his face the way his brows furrowed and eyes already releasing a few tears down his cheeks.

Before you could answer back, the same ringing sounded again.

“Isaac, you have to go, please.” You cried, your own tears flowing down your cheek as you tried to pry his hands that held on to your wrists away, wanting to get out of his hold on you all the while fighting the heavy ache in your body to turn against your own will.

“Isaac, you have to get out of there!” You can hear Stiles over the phone, can hear Scott and the others running to where your werewolf was located.

“I’m not leaving her,” Isaac growled at them but his eyes stayed on you.

“You have to, plea-”

“Y/N!”

A blood-curdling scream left your lips as your body started to tremble on the floor, your bones were visibly breaking and morphing under your skin against your will yet again. The jagged edges of the broken bones breaking through skin and the movement causing purple and blue patches to decorate your flesh, all the while the liquid inside the tube that was still attached to you bubbled angrily.

“Isaac!”

Turning to the person who called his name, he suddenly felt himself being tugged down to the floor as the sound of electricity zipping past them blasted onto the steel bars of a small window on the wall overcame your pained screams.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” the static voice called.

“It’s the Dread Doctors.” Stiles’ voice over the phone can be heard, more papers can be heard being flipped and thrown somewhere. “They’re the ones doing this to Y/N.”

“I need to get it off of her!” Isaac spoke to the phone as he watched Thor lunge at one of the doctors in front of them, his clawed hand not holding back any hits he let out. Scott was next when another appeared much closer to where you and Isaac were.

Once your cries quieted down and your body settled down to small shakes - appeased from the onslaught of transforming against your will, Isaac’s hands hovered over the tube.

“You have to go before they hurt you.” It was barely a whisper when the words came out of your mouth, your body was getting too tired to fight it anymore.

“No, I’m not leaving without you, you know that.” Isaac spoke it with a voice that left no room for arguments as he held the tube in his hand and attempted to pull.

Isaac held back a sob as the screams you let out shattered through the noise of the grunts and punches being thrown. But before he could successfully pull it out, a force had hit him and sent him across the room hitting a wall with a loud thud.

“Near-perfect.” Another doctor, the same one who threw Isaac off of you, had appeared next to you with a device in his hand that, from the looks of it, controlled the tube that was pumping the liquid into you.

“Stop, please!” Your hands flew to the contraption attached to you just as Isaac charged at the doctor, sending them both to the ground.

Blinking away the heaviness of your eyelids, you tried to move from your position on the floor only to fall back down flat on your stomach. The wolf in you whined in panic, barking almost as she nudged you with her head to stand up - that you still had strength in you and she was there to anchor you herself.

“Give her back to me,” You can hear Isaac from across the room, the sight of him swiftly landing blow after blow at the doctor caught you off guard. The blood that ran down his temple to his eyes only added a level of intensity to his yellow glowing gaze as he gave a growl that had an unnerving timbre to it. “Now.”

On the other end of the room, you watch Scott claw at the doctor he was against before the mask fell off and revealed a face that was mottled, wrinkled, and scarred. If the true alpha was disgusted, he did not show it as he put his arms up to block the hit the doctor threw his way.

At the sound of a device dropping to the cemented floor, you felt the vibration of the tube behind you stop - the bubbles silencing as it halted its actions. This immediately cleared your head and relieved you of the pain, the fuzzy veil finally lifting as you took another deep breath and attempted to sit upright again.

Successfully sitting up with a few labored breaths accompanied by a wince, you lifted your aching arms and took hold of the tube attached behind you - the stinging feel of the needle made itself known as the small movement you made just from holding it jostled a little.

Taking a couple of ragged breaths again, trying to gather the courage and strength to pull the thing behind you when the air was suddenly knocked out of your lungs. The sensation of a sharp jab radiated from your side, the groan you let out echoed to the other end of the room making your eyes dart to where Isaac was.

“No,” you let out a gasp at the sight of your mate wide-eyed as he stared up at the doctor in front of him - the pain you felt on your side mirroring where the Surgeon’s swordcane embedded on Isaac’s side and giving it a twist for good measure. “Isaac!”

Your wolf’s painful yips turned to a low dangerous growl.

Feeling the familiar throb in your gums as your canines grew longer, you heard a banshee’s piercing scream all the way from the other wing of the Eichen house while a true alpha’s growl filled the place you were in.

“No more,” You say through clenched teeth, Thor’s knees buckling at the command in his alpha’s voice, Scott and the doctors they were up against stood in awe at the willpower you displayed.

“Perfect,” one of them said under their breath, the final push for perfection.

Finally standing tall, the tube attached to your neck earlier now clutched in your hand, you did not waste time as you took down each person who did you wrong.

Going for the closest antagonist in your life, Thor immediately scrambled out of your way as your claws wrapped around the Geneticists neck. You let your body move past her without letting go of your grip on her before using the momentum to lift the doctor up, the weight and force effectively disconnecting her head from the rest of her body before hurdling her to the Pathologist who was clambering away from Scott and the fight.

Everything was a blur to the other occupants of the room as you zipped past them and took down each one before you finally lunged at the Surgeon who finally released his grip on both his cane and on Isaac.

“My child-” he managed to say as your grip on his neck tightened, his feet barely touching the ground - your eyes glowing a dangerous color as you stared up at him.

You can finally see through the mask, raw pink flesh with stitches decorating it was what the steel mask protected. His mouth opened to say something but only a gurgled gasp came out as your other hand embedded itself in his chest and pierced through skin and muscle. You felt your wolf puffing up with pride and anger - you were their greatest creation and downfall.

Silence enveloped the room as the lead doctor took his last breath before you haphazardly threw him to the ground.

With his nose scrunched and eyebrows furrowed, Isaac pulled the swordcane out of him. His jaw clenching before he let out a pained groan at the feel of the weapon sliding out before leaning heavily against the brick wall while clutching his side.

Your attention was immediately drawn to your other half, managing to wipe off some of the blood on your hand before tending to him.

“Hey,” Isaac greeted as he tried to not lean all his weight to you as you wrapped your arms around his waist, careful not to touch the stab wound on his side. You felt tears playing at the edge of your lashes as you buried your face against his chest, the scent signifying home.

“Can’t really ask you if you’re okay,” You managed to say once you pulled away and looked up at him.

“You’re one to talk,” Isaac replied with a chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smiled, wiping the stray tear that ran down your cheek with the back of your hand as Isaac’s lips returned to your forehead for another kiss.

“Y/N, look-”

“No!”

A loud bang and the pain that came with it suddenly broke the bubble of peace you were in.

Clutching you to his chest, you saw the same confused expression that reflected on Isaac’s eyes before they darted from you to where the smell of gunpowder was coming from.

The Pathologist’s hand shook as he held the gun up, a crazed look in his eyes as he attempted to stand up from being buried under his colleague's lifeless body. He muttered incoherent words as he aimed the gun at you again.

But before he can pull the trigger, another loud thud took you all by surprise as you witnessed the man fall down flat on his face.

“Damn.” Lydia was behind him with a bloodied metal bat clutched in her hands - Stiles’ hands were up in the air, his eyes were wide as if he couldn’t believe his girl just did that.

“Well mark me down as scared and horny,” Stiles muttered under his breath, his brain replaying the moment Lydia all but took off with his metal bat and ran down the hall as fast as her heels allowed her to where they were now.

~

“Thank you, Thor.” You hugged the larger-built werewolf, his arms wrapping around you tightly but still being mindful of your current state. “But I don’t think I’m fit to be your alpha - to be the pack’s alpha anymore.”

“I will never understand how you and the others accepted me after what had happened.” Your feet dangled as you sat on a bricked fence outside of the Eichen house, the jacket from Isaac wrapped around you securely to act as a buffer against the coolness of the night.

You can hear Thor’s wolf whine at your words, his face already reflecting the sadness you both felt at what you were doing as he leaned against the fence you were sitting on.

“Alpha, please don’t discredit yourself.”

You looked up at him, not really believing his words with how much damage you’ve done to the pack - to your family.

“You are more than worthy - especially at your age.” He added, pointing out that most of the alphas out there were a hundred years older than you. “You are strong.”

“Thank you, again - for everything,” your lips quivered as you gave your best smile before glancing up to try and prevent the tears from spilling down your cheeks. The thought of leaving your pack broke your heart, they were family. But you needed to have someone better to lead and handle pack-related things -- you needed to recover.

A comfortable silence settled around the two of you before you heard Stiles and Isaac walking towards you.

“Jeep’s good to go, big guy.” Stiles said - more to Thor than you - with a tilt of his head to gesture to where they were parked as Isaac helped you to your feet and walked you towards Lydia’s car.

“You okay?” Isaac asked softly as you both settled in the back seat.

His eyes double-checked the graze on your shoulder from the bullet that hit you, his arms never leaving your side as he let you lean on him - exhaustion already catching up to you with the way your body sagged against his.

No, not really. You wanted to say as he only tugged you closer to him, the drive to Deaton being quieter save for the soft tunes the radio played.

“I will be.”

~~~

Isaac didn’t know what exactly woke him up.

Staring back at the ceiling, his ears strained to hear bed sheets rustling beside him. With the little light that passed through the curtains of the room you shared, he ran his hands down his face before turning to his bedside.

His eyes squinted when his phone awoke and flashed the time, 3:01AM it read - the phone’s screen showed a picture of the two of you together during a weekend picnic Lydia had arranged a few weeks ago. You had your eyes closed and lips smiling - a genuine smile after so long - against his neck as he had his arms wrapped around you tightly while he made a face to the camera.

Isaac stared at his phone’s lock screen a few moments longer before movement on his side and the feel of cold skin touching his leg took him out of his reverie.

Putting his phone back on the nightstand, he curled back down the covers and turned to face you. For someone who’s a warm-blooded supernatural creature themself, you sure have cold feet.

Isaac cupped your face before tucking a stray hair behind your ear, you were lying on your stomach facing him with your hands tucked just a little under your pillow. You were still in deep sleep but it did not look as peaceful as he remembered - your brows were furrowed, your lips moved as if mumbling something and an occasional hand twitch was what he observed.

“Y/N?” Isaac asked, his voice croaked from the lack of use as he leaned on his elbow and tried to coax you awake.

It didn’t take too long before Isaac finally understood what you were saying.

Please, no more...p-please.

Leaning over your side of the bed, Isaac flicked the switch to your bedside lamp open and tried to call for you again. He could now see the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, the sheets bunching up in your grasp as your knuckles turned a lighter shade from how tight your grip was.

I can’t t-take it anymore...

“Hey, baby,” Isaac gently ran his hand down your back a few times, trying not to ‘jolt’ you awake. He knew what methods to use in waking you up when things like these happen, though it took multiple trials and errors with a few bumps - more or less scratches - in the way. But god, he’d take you screaming and lashing out at him any day than this.

I’m sorry, I won’t do it again...

“Y/N, please wake up for me.”

It broke his heart more at the thought that while you were already together, even if in that span of time you were simply friends at first, they’ve already done a multitude of things to you.

“Y/N, I’m here - you’re safe.” He tried again, the soft kiss to your temple lingering a little longer in hopes that it might help - let you sense that he was present and you were not in danger anymore.

“Y/N, no one’s gonna hurt you,” He spoke softly.

Covering your clenched hand with his, it was all it took before your eyes flew open with a sharp gasp of air. It took some strength and swiftness from Isaac to hold your wrists when you sat up so fast - almost bumping his chin in the process - that you almost fell out of the shared bed.

“Hey, hey,” He called for you, your eyes were dilated, blown wide and looking around frantically as if you were searching for the threat that plagued your life a year ago and giving you these night terrors that prevented you from having a good night’s sleep.

“I’m here, you’re safe.” He repeated, waiting for you and not letting go.

“Isaac,” He waited a little more before you finally settled down and realized where you were, your voice shook a little as you spoke his name; eyes glassy as you looked at the familiar blue eyes that called for you.

“I’m here.” Isaac gave a small smile as his hold on your wrist loosened before sliding his hands in yours and holding onto them on your lap - the soft yellow light from your bedside lamp gave his face a soft glow; his eyes looking more kinder that it already was.

Not again. Your lips trembled as you held back a sob, you shook your head as you stared down at your joined hands.

You felt trapped.

That was the only thing you felt and you wanted out, you wanted this to stop; you want an end to this thing happening to you - you don’t deserve the man in front of you.

Having known you for so long, Isaac can already see it on your face, he already anticipated it.

“I love you,” He spoke.

Absolutely no room for arguments, “I won’t leave you.”

You felt Isaac’s hands rest on your hips as you withdrew yours from his hold and tried to stop and wipe as many tears as you could with the heel of your hands. He let you lean your head on his shoulder, the feel of his lips placing a comforting kiss to your ear should’ve given your heart a little leap but it didn’t.

“How much longer will you tell me that before you finally get tired?” You did not mean to say it out loud, you hiccupped once your tears finally settled down with your head and heart.

“Never,” Isaac said as he pushed you away a little to look at you, cupping your face in his warm hands to make you look up at him, a glint of playfulness present. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You could only sigh and give a soft smile.

“You’re too good for me, Isaac.”

Bringing your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles, he let them go before cupping your face again and leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead, then your nose and lastly a chaste kiss on your lips.

“You deserve good things, Y/N.”

You deserve them after everything you went through. Isaac gave that smile he reserved only for you when he pulled away.

Lying back down, Isaac pulled you closer to him before pulling the covers up just below your chin.

“We’ll be okay, remember?” Isaac reminded you of the words you said to him when he asked you a year ago.

You did not miss the way he said ‘we.’ You did remember what he told you, that you were in this together - you’re it for me.

“I remember,” you answered, curling as close as you can to his side. The tip of your nose resting against the warm skin of his neck as he rest his chin on top of your head, arms tightening around you before they relaxed.

~

Feedbacks are always appreciated! Especially since I miss writing. But again, I won't be doing much writing anymore since I've somewhat lost touch with both my imagines blogs. I might just rewrite/refurbish some of my old imagines/drabbles.

Again, thank you so much for those who stuck by this imagines blog (and for Brett as well). You don't know how much I appreciate it, again, I'm sorry for not being active (read more here)

[sheerfreesia007]

I Can Treat You Better Headcannon

**These contain implied domestic violence. If this upsets you please DO NOT read!!**

Mitch- You were leaning up against the bar watching as your so called boyfriend chatted with another woman. Your eyes darted down to where his hand casually rested against her elbow and his fingers tapped out a beat only he could hear. Huffing softly you turned your head away from the sight and met the dark amber eyes of man on the opposite side of the bar. Looking away quickly you sighed dejectedly. Grabbing onto your drink you swirled the liquid in it and watched as it turned in the clear glass, almost hypnotized by the movement. Just then a warm presence situated itself on your left and you turned your head to look at the man who had connected eyes with you before. “He doesn’t deserve you.” He said quietly and your eyes darted to his before you licked your lips. Nodding your head and then rolled it from side to side. “I know but we’ve been through so much together and it’s been so long.” You said morosely as you turned back to your drink. “There are so many other men here who’d be lucky to be with you. Hell they’d all treat you better than that asshole.” You nodded your head again at his words in agreeance. “You included?” You asked with a soft grimace as you swirled your glass again. “Oh honey I’d do more than just treat you better. I’d treat you like a queen.” He rasped out to you in your ear. Your head snapped up to his and he smirked down at you softly before laying his hand over yours softly.

Marcus- Standing in the elevator you stared silently at the scene in front of you. Teresa was standing in front Marcus fidgeting as she spoke to him softly. You watched as her soft eyes looked up at him with sadness and pity. You couldn’t hear what she was saying and you honestly didn’t want to know what she was saying. The scene before was all too familiar to you and you ducked your head as you moved from the elevator not wanting to bring attention to yourself as you made to move past the two of them. “I’m sorry Marcus, really. But Jane needs me.” She said softly as you passed and you kept your eyes trained on the floor as you walked. If only you could get into the department without having to acknowledge them you’d be alright. But you weren’t that lucky. You heard his footsteps first before you felt his presence walking next to your own as you both moved towards the same department. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said softly to you. You shrugged your shoulders not bothering to speak up, you both know that you’ve seen it often enough that it wasn’t anything new. You could feel the anger simmering inside of you and you tried to bite your tongue. But suddenly his hand cupped your elbow and you whirled on him with pursed lips. “Why do you keep going back?” You asked harshly and watched as his eyes widened on you silently. You knew you should be saying anything to him about any of this but after how many months of watching him continuously go back to her after she had hurt him you couldn’t take it anymore. “What?” He asked softly. “Why do you keep going back to her?” You repeated again. “I mean this has happened often enough already and every time it’s you who’s getting the short end of the stick because of her. Don’t you ever get tired of it?” You asked angrily and incredulously. “I mean there has to be better options out there besides her. I’m sure anyone would be better than her.” You began rambling. “I would better than her. I could treat you better than her. But you don’t see that and you never will.” Your eyes suddenly widened as you realized what you said and you stopped walking with him. He turned to stare at you silently and you scoffed and shook your head. Moving past him you continued on into the office ahead of him knowing that the transfer papers that had been sitting on your desk for the better part of a week were going to come in handy now.

Francisco-  You shifted in your seat at the table as the four men all stared at you silently. You had just told them what your now ex-boyfriend had been doing to you for the better part of your six month relationship. Your hand came up to the edge of the sleeve of your long sleeved shirt and tugged it further down your arm. “I just need a place to stay for a little bit until I can find my own place. I know it’s a lot to ask but-“ you began to say before you were cut off by Ironhead waving his hand in the air. “It’s not that sweetheart. We’ve got no problem helping you out with that. But why-“ Ironhead started to say. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Pope asked as he leant his elbows on the sticky table you all sat at. Fidgeting again in your seat a larger soft hand came up and covered your own as they tugged and pulled the sleeve over your wrists. “Easy, honey.” Frankie said softly as he leaned closer to you slightly. “We’re not blaming you or trying to make you feel bad. We’re more concerned that we could’ve done something sooner, could’ve gotten you out sooner.” He said softly and comforting trying to calm you down.”I couldn’t leave yet. Every time I tried to he would make it seem like I was being crazy. And I would believe him because he never once laid a hand on me. But this past weekend-“ you said softly as you pushed up the sleeves of your shirt and presented the bruises that you had obtained this past weekend. Benny whistled lowly as all four of them stared at the bruising on your arms. “Mija.” Pope whispered softly.  It was later that evening at Frankie’s house that he was helping you get set up in his bedroom when he spoke to you candidly. “I would treat you better.” He said softly as he handed you an extra blanket for the bed.  “Frankie.” You responded softly and looked down to the blanket in your hands. “If you give me a chance when you’re ready I can show you how you should be treated.” He said softly as he gently cupped your cheek when you gazed up at him.

Stiles- “We’ve been planning this for weeks! What do you mean you can’t go now?!” You shouted angrily. Your boyfriend shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and you sighed tiredly. “Babe it’s just a weekend at Lydia’s lake house there’ll be others.” He said with another shrug. “That’s not the point! Every time I plan something with us and the pack you bail on me last minute and I’m stuck making excuses for you. I feel like you don’t care about my friends but I’m supposed to bend over backwards for yours.” You try to explain to him but you can already see that he’s not paying attention to you. “Whatever let me know when you get back I guess.” You say softly and turn to leave his house. That weekend as you’re lounging around the pool with Kira, Malia and Lydia you tell them about the argument you had with your boyfriend. “You know this happens every time we all get together, he doesn’t care about getting to know your friends.” Kira said softly as she shielded her eyes and gazed at the boys in the pool. “I know, I just thought maybe one day he’d be interested. I don’t know why I keep going back to the same thing with him.” You said dejectedly. “You should break up with him. He’s not making you happy and you deserve to be with someone who makes the effort with you.” Lydia states knowingly. Just then there this the sound of rippling water and you turn your head to look at Scott and Stiles leaning against the edge of the pool watching you. “She’s right you know. You do deserve to be with someone who puts in the effort.” Scott agrees with Lydia as he nods his head. “Yeah someone like me.” Stiles quips up and then his whole body jerks with shock at his words. Everyone goes silent and you stare at Stiles with wide eyes as he stares back at you. “I-I mean.” He begins to stutter. “Huh, makes sense.” Lydia says mostly to herself but everyone hears her. “He’s right though he’d treat you better than your current boyfriend.” She says as she nods at Stiles. You smile shyly as your eyes dart from Lydia back to Stiles who’s still watching you quietly. “Let me break up with him first.” You say softly and suddenly Stiles pumping his fists in the air as he whoops. You chuckle softly and the others all laugh around you as Stiles manages to disappear under the water in his excitement.

Tequila- It had been an hour already but you still held out hope that he would show. Just then the bar door opened and you turned your head in anticipation that it would be him. When you spot Tequila you sigh softly and your head falls forward in slight disappointment. “Hey.” He says softly as he lowers himself onto the stool next to yours. “Hey.” You respond softly in a sad tone. “You still waiting on him?” He asks cautiously and you furrow your brows at him as you turn your head to him. “Yeah, he said he’d be here an hour ago but he hasn’t shown.” You answer with a dejected shrug before you bring your beer bottle to your lips and take a sip. “He’s not coming.” Tequila advises quietly. Your head snaps to his and your eyes narrow silently. “Why do you say that?” You ask just as quietly. Tequila looks at you guiltily as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I saw him at the cafe down the road with some other woman.” He said quietly as if he was afraid of what you would do with the knowledge. You sucked in a deep breath and swiped your phone from the bar top. You pulled up his text messages and typed out a question. Where are you? As you waited for a reply you silently sat next to Tequila. Just then your phone chimed and you looked at the response, Lost track of time at work, raincheck? “What’d he say?” Tequila asked softly. “He’s at work, lost track of time.” You said confused feeling lost and adrift. Tequila turned his phone to you and your eyes darted over the picture of your boyfriend sitting at a table with a pretty dark haired woman. “Send that to me?” You asked softly and resigned. Tequila nodded silently and quickly swiped on his phone and soon enough the picture was sent to you. You then sent the picture to your now ex-boyfriend with the caption Work huh? We’re through, don't contact me, your stuff will be at the front desk of the office on Monday. You sighed softly as your head fell forward. “You okay?” Tequila asks quietly and you nod your head at him in response. “I figure I should know better by now.” You said tiredly as your head turned to him and you gazed at him. “Why do you let them treat you like that? You’re worth so much more than that.” He questions curiously. “He was great in the beginning and I guess I got comfortable.” You say dismissively with a shrug of your shoulders. “You deserve so much more. Someone to treat you right, to treat you like you mean the world to them.” Tequila explained adamantly . “Tequila every guy I’ve dated has done shit like this. I just think I’m bad luck.” You said insistently and Tequila shook his head. “You’re not bad luck you just haven’t found the right guy.” He said nodding his head. “I can be the right guy. I can treat you how you deserve to be treated.” He confessed as quietly as he could be and your eyes darted up to him silently. “I know you just broke up with him and I ain’t rushing ya but if you’re interested I like a shot to show you how you should be treated.” Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat. “When you’re ready you let me know.” And as the feeling of companionship filled your body you leaned over towards him and rested your head on his shoulder tiredly. You knew when you were ready you’d give him his shot and you knew it would be wonderful.

Whiskey- Tears were pouring down your face as you stood in front of Whiskey’s front door. A cool breeze fluttered through the air and you shivered and pulled the sleeves of your over large sweater over your arms. Shifting on your feet you wondered if it was a good idea coming here. Sniffling loudly you lifted your hand to swipe at your eyes. Just then the sound of the door lock opening caught your attention and you looked up to see a sleepy Jack rubbing at his eyes as he held the door open. “Sweetheart? What’s going on is everything okay?” He asked in his raspy voice. You suddenly felt stupid for coming here and looked back over your shoulder to look back at your car. “This was a mistake. I’m so sorry for bothering you.” You said softly as the sorrow and helplessness seemed to rise up and consume you. You begin to turn away from him and press a hand to your mouth as a loud gasp escapes your mouth. “Wait sweetheart. Are you hurt?” He asks suddenly and he sounds more awake now as he flicks on the porch light. His hiss of breath is loud in the space between you and you turn back to look at him. His hand comes up softly to lightly graze your shoulder where your sweater had fallen off to reveal the healing gash that he had given you a week ago. You flinch slightly at his touch and he pulls away instantly. “Sweetheart, who did this to you?” He asks darkly as his eyes darted around your form looking for more injuries. He notices your fiddling hands and he gently cups your hands in his slowly rising the sleeves of your sweater. “Oh sweetheart.” He says softly as he opens his arms and you quickly walk into them. “These are all from him aren’t they?” He asks softly as his arms wrap around you protectively and holds you close. You nod your head against his chest not being able to speak in fear of you crying again. His arms tighten around you and you bury your head further into his chest. “You’re not going back there. You’ll stay with me until we can find you another place. But promise me you won’t go back to him ever.” He says softly pleading with you. You turn your head to gaze up at him and he cups your face gently. “Promise me.” He pleads and you nod your head. “I promise. No more.” You say softly as tears stream down your face. “Lord if only you knew how you should be treated.” He whispered softly as he pulled you back into his arms.

Raymond- Flinching you turned your head away and shut your eyes quickly anticipating the raised hand to make contact with your face. But when the hit never came you looked back at your angry boyfriend and saw that his wrist had been caught in the grasp of Raymond Smith, Mickey Pearson’s right hand man and by default Rosalyn your boss’ go to man for anything she needed cleaned up. You stared in shock with wide eyes at the man glaring at your boyfriend. “Right, that’s no way to treat a lady now is it mate?” Ray asked rhetorically and you watched as your boyfriend’s face contorted in anger as he stared at Ray. “She isn’t a lady. She’s a cunt.” Your boyfriend snapped at Ray and you gasped loudly at the insult. Your heart shattered and you whirled away from the two men. “Right, Bunny.” Ray said calmly and you felt chills go down your spine, you’ve heard that tone of voice before from Ray right before he unleashed a beat down onto the offender. “Incoming.” Came Bunny’s response and you heard his heavy footsteps near your boyfriend. You heard more shuffling footsteps and your boyfriend grunted and cried out as he was quickly ushered from the apartment that you had shared with him for months. “Are you alright dove?” Ray asked softly and you felt him standing close to you from behind. You nodded your head and avoided turning around to face him. “Dove.” He says softly as he circles you and stands in front of you. You look up and as he gazes at you concerned you feel the tears fill your eyes and you gasp out loudly as you sob. Ray quickly pulls you into his arms and he hugs you tightly. “It’s alright Dove. We’re gonna get you out of here.” He says softly and you sob loudly into his chest. His hands come up and slowly rub up and down your back trying to calm you down. “I don’t know all the details yet but listen to me.” He says softly and you tilt your head up to look at him silently. “This was no fault of your own. He shouldn’t have laid a hand on you at all Dove. No man should ever lay a hand on you.” He said adamantly as he gazed down into your face. “Now come on let’s go pack your things you’re not staying here.” He said softly and used his thumbs to wipe away the stray fallen tears.

Forrest- You flinched as you heard the wet sounding thud of fists against flesh. Your hands came up to cover your ears and your eyes shut tightly as you hid behind the bar. Grunts and groans were heard from the men fighting and sat there on the floor with your back pressed against the bar just trying to seem as small as possible so that you didn’t garner any unwanted attention. “Don’t you ever touch her again!” Snapped Forrest’s voice as he delivered one last punch to the man who had been bothering you as you worked tonight. You heard the heavy thud of his body hit the floor and you stifled your gasp as much as you could. The front door opened and you heard more shuffling before the door shut and heavy footsteps sounded out as they moved closer to your hiding spot. When they stopped you looked up and stared at a blood stained Forrest. Your heart clenched in your chest and you stared at him with wide eyes. He looked feral as he gazed down at you but you knew he would never hurt you. You stood quickly from your spot and moved closer to him. “You alright?” He grunted out and you nodded your head quickly. But when his hand came out and gently cupped your wrist you hissed and pulled away from him. “Let’s see it.” He grumbled and you pulled your sleeve up to show the gash the man had given you with his hunting knife. “Darlin’” he said softly and you shook your head at him. “I’m okay, I swear. I’ll wrap it up once I get home. It won’t affect my work.” You said frantically. Forrest’s hand came up in a stop motion and you fell silent. “I don’t care about none of that. I care about if you’re hurt.” He said firmly and you nodded your head. “If anyone ever treats you like that again you let me know. I’ll take care of it.” He says softly and you nod your head again. He then leads you to one of the tables and moves away collecting the first aid kit. You were lucky to have someone like Forrest to look after you and protect you.

[voidstilesplease]

love and war

a demigod au [companion] ficlet

~•~

Theo's eyes snap open when he hears the loud honk from outside the motel they're staying. He sits upright in his makeshift bed on the cold floor. It's still dark, and when he checks the clock in the room, only an hour has passed since they went to bed.

He transfers his gaze at the sleeping lump on the single bed, wrapped tightly in the comforter like a human burrito. Stiles is dead to the world, open-mouth with a bit of drool on one side. He looks so young and innocent and can't hurt a fly like this. But under his pillow, Theo can see the handhold of his dagger. They're almost to the entrance of the Underworld now. More monsters are after them. Caution and vigilance are of utmost importance if they want to come back from this quest alive.

Soft snoring takes his attention from Stiles to the shape on the couch. Involuntarily, Theo scowls at the sight of him. Derek Hale, son of Poseidon. He still can't believe he's on a quest with him, or even that all three of them are together in some mad twist of fate and managed not to kill one another yet. Barely, but still. Their godly parents are the worst rivals and are the three Olympians on the verge of a war if Theo, Stiles, and Derek fail. The last thing they should become is allies.

Derek shifts and Theo notes that he looks uncomfortable in his position. It makes him oddly satisfied.

He hears the loud honk again, but it's apparent now that only he does among them. Otherwise, his two companions would have sprung up, wide-eyed and ready to pounce, no matter how exhausted they had been from a full day of running and fighting monsters.

Theo gets up to his feet, clutching the hilt of his sword, and approaches the window guardedly. With sure fingers, he pulls down the blinds enough to peek. The image that greets him gives him a moment's pause, lips parting in surprise. 

Outside, a spotless, white limousine casually parks on the deserted road. A muscular man in black jeans, combat boots, and a red muscle shirt underneath a black vest leans against it. There's a familiar sneer in his mouth noticeable even from afar, and though he's donning sunglasses, Theo knows his eyes are on him. 

He's imagined this happening since his claim at Camp Half-Blood. If he appears to him right now while Theo's in the middle of a make-or-break mission, things must be getting worse in Olympus. He usually communicates to Theo in vague dreams, in a voice in his head, in some other weird manifestation since this started, but never coming to him in the flesh.

He lets go of the blind, delays for a second of contemplative silence, and then opens the door to meet his father, the God of War, Ares.

~•~

He slows his steps as he nears the broad figure. Up close, Theo notices the fire reflecting from inside his glasses. He has heard from his siblings that their dad had fireballs in his sockets instead of eyeballs. And that any children of Ares are compelled by unexplainable force to meet those flares, cowering.

Theo stops and raises his chin to meet his father's gaze, and no matter how he tries and how tough he is, he still dips his head in submission to the god. He swallows, "Father,"

His reply was a terse and detached, "Son,"

Theo lifts his head again, not quite meeting Ares's eyes this time, and hesitates for a second, but asks, "What are you doing here, father?"

The god's face twists like he has swallowed a lemon. His head fastens in the direction of the room Theo is renting for the night. "You have such unpromising companions," he spats, glaring at the window as if he sees through it. Ares probably does. "The son of Poseidon I can scarcely forgive," his attention slips back to Theo, and even without the proper organs, Theo can feel the disgust that would be reflected in them if he had eyeballs. The disapproval is rolling like waves in his aura, and it makes dread crawl up Theo's spine. He hates that his father can evoke such emotions just with his presence. He's also starting to feel his blood boil. "but Athena's spawn?"

Theo bites his lip and balls his fists to avoid saying something that will make his father smite him to smithereens. That is not at all the way he had imagined his first meeting with his father to end.

"She dares call me a thief," Ares's voice does not rise, but it doesn't have to. Theo's hyper-aware of his father's rage, and it makes his knees quiver to kneel and supplicate. 

Theo forces to say the words, "Stiles is helping to find an end to this conflict,"

Ares scoffs, unimpressed. "And by an end," he crosses his burly arms. "You mean victory against our enemies in the war."

Theo shakes his head, breathing through his nose. "I was thinking about not starting a war at all."

The look Ares gives him makes his stomach coil, and he hates it. The god regards him similarly to an insect: small, insignificant, and revolting. "No child of War runs from war."

Theo breathes in deep, his blunt and dirty nails digging in the skin of his palms. "There isn't one yet, that is necessary."

Ares's face thunders and the fire in his eyes glow brighter. It seems the god expresses no aversion to smiting his son right then and there. "She slandered my name-"

"Ares, dear, do be nice now." A silky, feminine voice interrupts his father from inside the limo. And amazingly, the god's anger deflates, albeit grudgingly. He's still enraged, but he's holding himself back from committing a crime. Theo inwardly sighs in relief.

The god purses his lips, nose flaring slightly, "My Lady wishes to give you a weapon,"

Theo draws his eyebrows together, "Your Lady?" Just as he says the question, the answer comes to Theo. He remembers the afternoon Stiles discussed with him in their session about his father's amorous relationship with a fellow Olympian.

"Aphrodite is the goddess of love and beauty and is married to Hera's son, Hephaestus, the god of the forge. The union forced upon Aphrodite as it was a condition made by Hephaestus so he would free his mother, Hera, from being bound into a magical throne he built and tricked the queen of the gods into sitting. Zeus granted it, and so they were married. Aphrodite resented his husband because Lord Hephaestus was, in the standard of the divinities, ugly and lame, and therefore, not befitting the goddess of beauty.

The god tried to gain her affection by designing beautiful jewelry for her in his workshop. But she wasn't interested. Instead, she used the opportunity of his husband's work arrest in his workshop to be unfaithful and be with other gods or goddesses, and even mortals.

Then she met Ares, and they fell in love. They kept on having affairs with other immortals and mortals, but they always came back to each other -even though that's against the rule of formal infidelity of the Greeks."

"Bring him in, dear,"

The soft voice breaks Theo's reverie, and with a huff, his father motions him to the door as requested by the goddess Aphrodite.

He doesn't know what to expect the goddess of beauty would look like, but when the door opens, Theo catches a glimpse of the car's occupant, and he thinks he hallucinated Stiles for a brief moment. When he blinks, he now sees the flowing hair and feminine features instead of gelled up hair and slender muscles.

He takes a seat, and the door shuts. Theo finds himself captivated by the different aura that she emanates in comparison to what he had felt with his father. His skin feels warm instead of burning, and his heart steadies instead of races. He stares at the face of the goddess, and if he isn't so gone, he would have remembered his manners -whatever little he has. At least, the goddess doesn't seem offended by the rapt attention -she's probably used to it- but amused.

Theo had never mentally built a picture of the goddess, but he didn't expect for her to have moles sprinkled in her pale face or have amber, almost molten liquid, eyes. But she has an elegant upturned nose and pink cupid's bow lips, which are as expected. Her features remind Theo so closely of Stiles. That must be why he thought he saw him for a second there.

When she smiles, it even feels familiar to Theo.

"What do you see?" She asks.

"Um," Theo swallows and licks his dried lips. "Your beauty, goddess."

She emits a soft, coy chuckle. "It is not universal. Do I resemble someone specific that you know?"

The question throws him for a little, and he blinks. "Yes," He says honestly, figuring there is no point in lying.

The smile on her face broadens, "My beauty is an individual's perception of it, son of Ares. It is one or the other, depending on who's looking."

He frowns, confused. Before he can ask what the goddess is trying to say or process it himself, Aphrodite procures an object in her hands that she passes to Theo. When he looks down at the item, it's a palm-sized rose looking-glass. He sees his reflection as he studies it. It's a simple circular mirror with roses encrusted around it; each petal is elaborately carved.

"It is a present from my husband," the goddess says.

Theo nods, thinking it makes perfect sense. Something as well-crafted as the item he holds must only be from a god. 

"When you absolutely need it," she continues, "look upon the mirror, and help will come. It grants only one call."

He gives the goddess a quizzical look, "Why are you giving it to me, though, Lady Aphrodite? I am grateful and honored to receive such a gift," he hastily adds, remembering Stiles's warning of always showing gratitude to the gods. It avoids spontaneously combusting. "But I don't know why me?"

Thankfully, she seems to be in good spirits because she only inclines her head. "Do you think it appropriate if I gifted that to the children of my beloved's rivals?"

Theo made a humming noise.

"I must say," she adds, "I assumed if it was the son of Poseidon I invited, I know what image he would see in my face. But, I wonder," she gives Theo a look, her brown eyes twinkling in the same fashion as Stiles's when he formulates a clever, and devious idea. "If it was the son of Athena, whose face would he have seen between two?"

Theo pauses, caught off guard.

Then, the goddess straightens. "Remember. Only once. Choose the moment wisely."

Theo opens his mouth to thank her once more and asks what is in exchange for the goddess' generosity. Stiles had also taught him that gods don't just hand out presents to the mortals they favor without a deed or a sacrifice. But, the next time he breathes, he's back inside the room, sitting in his comforter on the floor.

He blinks rapidly and scrambles to his feet toward the window. He pulls the blinds aside and sees nothing but a deserted road outside where the limo has been.

He almost thinks he dreamt it, but when he looks at his hand, Aphrodite's mirror is in there.

"Remember. Only once. Choose the moment wisely."

~•~

[1][2][3][4][comp 1]

[wolfflock]

Please, Keep Love Hole (final chapter)

Read all 21 chapters over at AO3 (explicit, 42k).

Chapter Summary: S-E-X. With feelings. And teeth.

They have been officially dating for months when Derek tells Stiles that they need to talk. At first Stiles is nervous about it (damn all those romcoms where this sentence always means something bad) but then he gets over it. They are doing great and Derek isn’t like that anyway, he would tell him straight to his face if something was wrong.

The only thing that isn’t so great for Stiles is that it’s been long goddamn months and they still haven’t had sex. Sure, they have watched each other jerk off a couple of times and they have been dry humping each other like teenagers, but Derek always stopped him when he wanted to go further, when he wanted to take Derek’s clothes off. Stiles is in no rush, though, so he didn’t make a big deal out of it, but he’s getting frustrated with constantly having blue balls and having to take long showers after being over at Derek’s. Scott is giving him knowing looks.

So Stiles is a bit worried about what this talk will be about, but he is keeping an open mind.

When he arrives to Derek’s apartment, the place smells great. Derek’s been cooking which, okay, he didn’t expect. Maybe the romcom drama is not going to happen.

“Something smells great,” Stiles whistles as he walks up to the stove where Derek, in an apron with puppies all over, is putting food on two plates.

“I made lasagna, I hope you like it,” Derek replies as he turns his head so Stiles can kiss his cheeks.

“You kidding? I love it,” he says and sniffs the delicious food, followed by an appreciative sigh. “So what is it that you wanted to talk about?” Stiles has always been very patient.

“After dinner, okay? Let’s eat just now,” Derek looks up at him, a shy smile on his face.

Stiles digs in and starts talking about the latest YouTube videos he saw and forgets about the talk.

When they finish eating, they clean up and then head to the living room to get comfortable on the couch. Stiles really doesn’t want to push it but he’s getting restless and Derek can probably sense this because he takes a deep breath and begins.

“You probably have been wondering why I always stop you when you want to undress me.”

And yes, that is an understatement. Stiles, at the first few times this happened, was obsessing over this, trying to figure out if Derek didn’t like him, or didn’t want him, or didn’t trust him. But Derek was always down to kiss and touch through clothes so Stiles thought he might have been just shy or self-conscious.

“Do you remember when I told you about my first time?” Derek asks, and Stiles needs to think about that for a while.

Derek helps him out and starts explaining that when he was 16, he fell for someone older. Stiles can remember this much, but what Derek tells him next is a shock to his system.

In a quiet voice, Derek tells him that the woman tied him up, gagged him, spanked him, fucking cut him with a knife and then left him there for two days. Then he talks about the long weeks he was bedridden because of healing injuries, but more importantly the emotional trauma he suffered, with the added baggage of all this happening in Derek’s teen years when he was still trying to figure out who he was, which high school gossip really fucking didn’t help. Stiles’ stomach is turning, he’s seeing red and getting angry with every quiet word leaving Derek’s lips.

But when Derek stands and takes his shirt off, it’s like a bucket of ice being dumped on him. He can see the cuts still, so many years later. They weren’t deep, Derek explains in a clinically cold voice, so they healed alright, but they stand out pale against Derek’s tanned skin. Almost a dozen long lines from his chest to his hips and arms, all different in length and shape.

Stiles lets out a shaky breath and unconsciously reaches out to touch but his hand freezes midair as he looks up at Derek.

“Can I?” he asks.

Derek moves closer, within reach. Stiles shuffles to the edge of the couch so Derek can stand between his legs and puts his hands on Derek’s hips, not touching his skin. When Derek buries his hands in Stiles’ hair and nods, Stiles begins to trail his fingertips over the white lines. Derek tenses, but with a rattling breath he relaxes and lets Stiles explore.

He traces each and every cut with his fingers, trying to change the memory of pain to a memory of gentleness. When he’s touched all of them, he leans in and places the smallest of kisses against the one that goes from Derek’s right hipbone towards his groin. Then he slowly rises to his feet. Holding Derek’s chin in his hand, he looks him in the eye and whispers thank you to let Derek know how much he appreciates this. Him, his honesty, his straightforwardness, his trust.

With the force of a storm, Derek leans forward and kisses Stiles with everything he’s got. Stiles tries to follow him but the intensity with which Derek tries to convey his emotions knocks the wind out of him and he can’t do much more than allow Derek to kiss him however he wants to, he just responds in earnest.

After minutes, both panting, Stiles breaks the kiss and looks Derek in the eye.

“Is it okay?” He needs to make sure that Derek doesn’t feel pressured.

Derek nods, and pushes him backwards until his legs hit the couch and he has to sit down. Derek is on his knees in no time and is already working on Stiles’ zipper when Stiles catches his hands.

“Hey, Derek, slow down. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving you,” he says, and caresses Derek’s cheek.

“I know,” Derek replies, placing a kiss on Stiles’ palm. “I know,” he repeats, trying to center himself, let him believe what he’s saying.

Stiles cups Derek’s face and with a murmured “Come here” he pulls him up to kiss him again. This time it’s slower, sweet and perfect. There’s no rush to it, just heat and want. Derek shudders when Stiles flicks his fingers over his nipples, but Stiles just smirks against his lips and does it again.

“Fuck,” Derek breathes deeply and plants a wet kiss on Stiles’ neck.

This gives enough time for Stiles to rearrange them; Derek’s head is resting against the cushions by the armrest, his legs splayed open so Stiles can kneel between them. He looks down at Derek’s beautiful naked torso and pulls his shirt before leaning forward to steal another kiss. Their hands are roaming the other’s body, mapping muscles, scars, birthmarks, trying to memorize as much as they can.

“Let me take care of you first,” Stiles whispers in Derek’s ear which earns him a deep moan and a hurried “Yeah, okay.”

Stiles can’t help himself and steals another quick kiss before he trails down Derek’s body, stopping at his nipples to give them some attention as Derek seems to enjoy it. Sure enough, Derek’s hand grabs a handful of Stiles’ hair and his fingers flex reflexively. As much as he would love to spend a whole night kissing and playing with Derek’s nipples, he continues his way down to Derek’s thighs. The runs his hands up and down Derek’s muscular legs, scraping his fingernails across the fabric of his jeans, which puts a teasing line of pressure going from his knees up to his hips and Derek chuckles a bit as it tickles him.

Placing another kiss on the scar by Derek’s hip, Stiles unbuttons his jeans and when Derek lifts his hips, he pulls them down as much as he can. He quickly pulls those and his own jeans off, leaving them in nothing but underwear, both of them showing obvious signs of their interest in the proceedings. Derek sits up and pulls him in close to kiss him, and then he’s leading the way to his bedroom. Stiles can’t help but stare at Derek’s gorgeous body; his toned back, round ass and strong legs. He can’t wait to feel those wrapped around him as he has Derek under him.

When they reach the room, Derek gracefully sits back by the headboard and waves his hand in the direction of his open, bent legs, obscenely presenting himself.

“As you were,” he says cheekily, and Stiles is on him in a second, his hands touching everywhere and his lips whatever snarky comment Derek wanted to add.

When the kiss ends, he looks at Derek, aiming for a deadpan expression but probably looking more excited and eager than anything else. “Lube?”

Derek twists around to reach for the nightstand which Stiles takes advantage of and pushes Derek down on the bed so he’s lying on his front and Stiles has his extremely shapely ass inches from his face. Derek just laughs but lets him do it, pulling a pillow under his head and trying to look over his shoulder as much as he can. He drops a bottle and a condom on the bed.

Stiles, whether with girls or guys, has always loved eating ass. Acquired taste or not, it has always been the perfect mix of shouldn’t like it and love it anyway. He kisses all over Derek’s lower back and thighs, placing biting kisses wherever he reaches, which has Derek growl slightly, clearly frustrated about the teasing.

“Is this okay?” Stiles asks, after he bites Derek’s ass cheek hard.

“Hhhnnng---yesss,” Derek hisses as he instinctively arches his back to silently as for more.

Stiles just smiles and places both of his hands on Derek. His gentle kisses turn hungrier with teeth and more saliva the closer he gets to Derek’s hole. Without hesitation or teasing, he places his mouth around it and kisses it, alternating between long licks, kisses, sucking and kitten licks. Derek is growing louder by the minute, his hands fisting the pillow, biting the corner as his eyes close from pleasure.

As much as Stiles enjoys this, his need has been increasing with every moan and sigh Derek made. He’s dreamt about this, in vivid details, how he would take Derek apart with his mouth on his cock, his ass, his nipples. But this has to wait because Stiles wants to make this last. With a heavy sigh, he reaches out for the forgotten bottle of lube and pours some of it on his fingers, warming it before reaching towards Derek.

“Still okay?” he asks, but Derek’s relaxed expression and curt nod comes before he could even finish those two words.

He gently rubs his finger around Derek’s rim and when Derek sighs, he pushes in. The sigh turns into a moan and that spurs Stiles on to continue his movement without pausing. He starts a gentle but steady rhythm and as soon as he can, adds a second finger. Derek only wiggles around the get a better position, adjusting so with Stiles’ pushes, his dick is gently nudged against the bed.

It doesn’t take long for Derek to relax and sigh with every touch, non-verbal voices leaving his lips in an endless stream. Stiles then bites his ass one more time, slaps him gently before reaching for the condom and putting it on with shaking hands. He smears some more lube on his shaft before putting his hands on the bed by Derek’s hips. He leans down to kiss and bite Derek’s shoulder as he grabs his cock to guide it into Derek’s waiting body.

Pushing in only a few inches, he stops to steady himself, Derek’s heat and tightness overwhelming him suddenly. He hangs his head, forehead touching Derek’s shoulder, as he takes a few deep breaths. Derek, though, is impatient, and shifts so he can take over, arching his back so he can move his hips and slowly inch his way back down on Stiles’ cock. It’s an intoxicating sight, his ass greedily sinking down on his erection.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, Derek,” he whispers, then groans when Derek clamps down on him. “Show off,” he chuckles, but leans down to awkwardly kiss Derek in his twisted position.

As retaliation, Stiles sneaks a hand around Derek’s throat to keep him in place and finally starts moving. Derek chokes on a chuckle and his mouth falls open as Stiles slides out and then back in. Stiles keeps a steady and slow pace, trying to draw the teasing out before he knows he lose his patients and picks up speed.

“Stiles, come on, don’t tease, just give it to me,” Derek keens, his fingers whitening in the sheets as he’s trying to hold himself up to kiss Stiles.

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles groans and falls forward, still holding Derek’s throat gently, as his other hand comes to rest on Derek’s legs to pull them up until Derek’s ass is higher up and the angle is just right, judging by the choked off groan escaping Derek’s lips.

And Stiles gives it to Derek, his pace becoming faster and faster, the only sound in the room is skin on skin and their curses and moans. Stiles bites Derek’s ear and Derek shouts his name, surprised and turned on even more.

“You have no idea how many times I imagined this, what it would be like to fuck you,” Stiles whispers in Derek’s ear. “Seeing you in those tight jeans outlining your ass… why do you think I was sitting in the first row every time? Fuck, I wanted to bend you over your meticulously organized desk and fuck you until you made a mess all over it.” Stiles is hand tightens for a second around Derek’s neck and that has Derek wheezing for all deities to help him because he’s falling apart.

“Touch yourself,” Stiles instructs, and Derek scrambles to reach down between his legs to cup his straining erection, ignored for so long and so desperate for attention.

“Yes, fuck, Stiles, please,” Derek whines and starts stroking himself in earnest.

“I want you to come first so I can feel your orgasm while I’m still inside you,” Stiles grunts and places a kiss on Derek’s neck.

Derek’s breath hitches, his body goes rigid and he’s coming over his hands, ass clenching down on Stiles, tightening even more. That throws Stiles’ rhythm, his hips staggering a few more times and then he’s coming, biting on Derek’s shoulder gently, and then letting go of him.

He pulls his hand away from Derek’s neck, petting his hair in apology as he’s sure there will be red fingerprints for a few hours. As Derek goes lax underneath him, he relaxes, and his heavy limbs refuse to hold him up any longer.

He falls on Derek’s back with an oomph, and for a minute or two they just try to get their heartbeats back to normal. Then he pulls out, kneading Derek’s ass before leaning down to place a kiss on one ass cheek. He goes to Derek’s bathroom to discard of the condom, clean up and get a wet towel.

When he walks back, Derek is lying on his back, his forearm over his face. His cheeks are flushed, he’s covered in sweat and his neck is red in what seems to be in the distinctive shape of a palm. He looks beautiful.

Stiles climbs up next to him, pulls his arm away so he can kiss him. Gently, with emotion, as they are both sated now, so this kiss is just a reminder that they have each other. He cleans Derek off, then, and after throwing the towel on the floor, he cuddles Derek.

After a lazy shower together, they curl up in bed and fall asleep in no time.

---

The next morning, there are two things out of the usual, when Stiles wakes up. One, it’s bright, like, really bright. Did he leave the lights on last night?

No, he’s not in his dorm.

Right. The talk with Derek.

And oddly enough, being in Derek’s bed is not the second unusual thing.

That has to be Derek between his legs, his face really close to Stiles’ morning wood, giving it a kitten lick.

“Morning,” Derek declares, with a playful look on his face.

“Apparently,” Stiles blushes, but he can’t look away.

“Can I?” He asks, almost unsure.

And if he wasn’t already hard, Stiles’ dick would have jumped at that hungry voice coming out of such red lips so freaking close to a hard cock.

“Fuck, yes,” is all Stiles can muster. He props himself up on pillows so his head is lifted, and he can watch Derek scoot closer to kiss and lick.

Wrapping his hand around Stiles’ cock, he places open mouthed kisses all over, like he’s appreciating some rare art form.

“You have a really nice dick,” Derek says, looking at it, turning his head this and that way. Having his mouth on his dick didn’t but this definitely makes Stiles blush. “I’m a bit sad that I didn’t get to play with it first before I had it in me,” he muses, and Stiles groans and curses.

“Can you come from words alone?” He laughs awkwardly, when Derek looks at him. “Because I might if you keep up the worshiping.”

“Guess we have to see that later. For science,” Derek smirks and goes back to kissing Stiles’ cock.

After peppering it with kisses, he switches to licking it, with long swipes of his tongue, up and down. Stiles, being the college student he is, is not used to languid blowjobs that last more than 5 minutes and are done in dark corners, so he is having a hard time keeping his hands from just grabbing Derek’s head and pulling him down on his dick. So, he flexes his fingers a few times by his side and grabs the sheets to hold on.

Derek must see his frustration, though, because he puts his lips around the head and slowly, but without stopping, takes him as deep as he can. That is when Stiles needs to reach out for purchase, though, so he grabs a handful of Derek’s hair as he moves to pull up.

This jostles his head enough to accidentally scrape Derek’s teeth on the underside of Stiles’ dick who moans out loud with a deep “Fuck, yes, do that again.” Derek looks up at him, but Stiles’ eyes are closed, and his mouth is open as he is panting loudly.

So, Derek does it again, cautiously at first, just pushing his lower teeth against the underside of Stiles’ shaft but Stiles just groans, and his hands tighten in Derek’s hair. Confident that Stiles is actually enjoying this, Derek bobs up and down a few times before, out of nowhere, he pulls off to bite the side of Stiles’ cock hard.

Stiles lets out a garbled mess of noises and syllables as his head jacks up and the look he gives Derek is hungry and on fire. Derek goes back to sucking him off in earnest now, moving fast and sucking hard. Stiles is getting closer, his muscles tightening so Derek quickly pulls off, bites him one more time and takes him down his throat. Stiles holds his head as he fucks into his mouth once, twice and he’s coming down Derek’s throat with a loud “fuck”. Derek swallows everything and when he lets Stiles’ cock slip from his mouth, he just nuzzles in, face resting against Stiles’ hip.

Panting hard, trying to catch his breath, Stiles plays with Derek’s hair, and then he’s laughing.

“You know, for a long time I didn’t understand what the big deal about blowjobs was,” he explains and Derek just hums, so he continuous. “Like, the ones I got were fine, but nothing amazing. But guess what. I like it on the rough side, with biting and teeth. And I needed to go to a damn glory hole in a gay bar a few towns over to find it out! My friends dragged me there, no, they actually dared me, and I was kind of wasted but, you know, not that drunk that I couldn’t get it up. Anyway, the dude there was good, Jesus, like not as good as you, because hot damn. But anyway, I was so awkward I gave him a thumbs up through the hole and ---- Derek?”

Derek’s face is flushed now, way more than it was when he had Stiles down his throat. He has a sheepish smile on his lips as he thumps his head against Stiles’ stomach, which ouch.

“I…” Derek clears his throat. “I remember you,” he mumbles against Stiles’ skin and Stiles is just staring at him. Then he connects the dots.

And then he’s laughing, which makes Derek’s head rise and fall on his stomach, so he looks up, into Stiles’ tear-filled eyes as he’s laughing with his whole body.

“Professor Hale in a glory hole? I would have never seen that coming,” he wheezes as he’s gulping for air between hiccuping giggles.

“Shut up. I didn’t always cope with emotions in the healthiest ways. Cheap sex was one of them, you know that,” Derek says quietly, looking away, but Stiles can’t let this turn sour, so he reaches out to run his thumb along Derek’s cheekbones.

“Danny also said the glory hole guy haven’t been there for a while, the timing of which is suspiciously close to when we started seeing each other,” Stiles whispers and pulls Derek up for a kiss. “And that is all I need,” he confesses and looks Derek in the eyes. “I love you, Derek, as you are.”

There’s a moment’s silence as Derek’s mouth turns downward, his lips pouting, and Stiles can see his eyes filling up with tears as Derek launches himself at Stiles, hiding his face in his neck.

“I love you so much, Stiles. I was so afraid this could come between us and I didn’t know how to tell you this.”

“Well, I guess, this was one way for it to come out,” Stiles chuckles and kisses Derek. Their naked bodies curling around each other, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, they enjoy their lazy morning in.

[otg2012]

Day 3: Future fic

It's You and Me, and the Distance in Between

Jackson phones Stiles from college for his birthday... aka Stiles's birthday is one more reminder that having a long-distance relationship isn't easy.

Stiles has just finished tidying up his room when he accepts the skype video call on his computer and Jackson’s gorgeous but tired face appears on his laptop.

“Hey, you got it, right?”

“Yeah, your mom gave it to my dad at the station this morning before going to work, and he gave it to me when I got home this afternoon.”

“Have you opened it?”

“What do you think?” Stiles asks, getting up, grabbing the package from his bed before sitting back at his desk again, showing it to Jackson, perfectly wrapped. “You asked me not to open it like ten times yesterday.”

“Yeah, I asked you because I know you… you can’t resist opening a present for five minutes, let alone two hours.”

“Well, maybe I’m growing up, alright?” Stiles waves his right hand. “It’s my birthday after all.”

“True, happy birthday… You’re older than me now. God, you’re so old…” Jackson smirks.

Jackson’s teasing tone is something that Stiles always likes even if he would never admit it.

“Shut up, you’ll be as old as I am in four months—Wait,” Stiles furrows his brow, “where are you?” Because he’s just realized that the wall behind Jackson doesn’t look like his room and Jackson is obviously on his phone, not on his laptop.

“The stairs. Near the library. Don’t worry, there’s nobody around… everybody is having dinner or studying, I guess.”

“Of course—You were at the library… and you interrupted your studying to call me?” Stiles frowns. “You shouldn’t—”

“I said I’d call you, didn’t I?

“Yes, but I could have waited until tonight.”

“Yeah, and you would have opened it without me.”

“Not true,” Stiles says defensively.

“Whatever. Now we won’t need to find out… just open it already.” Jackson smiles.

“Fine. But just so you know, if you’ve spent too much, I’m taking it back to the store.”

“You aren’t returning shit, and that’s final,” Jackson says with conviction.

Stiles rips off the paper with no delicacy at all and he finds a white box with the ‘Diesel’ logo at the top.

“Fuck,” Stiles shakes his head. “Jackson—”

“Stiles, open-the-fucking-box,” Jackson says, leaning closer to the phone, like if that is going to make any difference.

“Yeah, I’m working on it!” Stiles gets up, leaves the box on the bed and leans over to open it.

“Shit,” it’s all Jackson can hear from Stiles, who is still standing with his back facing the laptop as he takes it out of the box with both hands.

“You like it?” Jackson says, unable to wait any longer in uncertainty.

“You’re insane, okay?” Stiles shakes his head, licking his lips.

“That means you like it?” Jackson raises both eyebrows.

“No, that means… you can’t do this. That’s what I mean.”

“Okay, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’...” Jackson tries not to smirk but gives up after a few seconds. “Put it on, then.”

Stiles is not sure he should, because if he does, he’ll love it and then, there’s no way he’ll have the will the take it back to wherever this gorgeous thing came from.

“Look, if it’s the right size,” and Jackson knows Stiles’s size perfectly, “you’re not taking it back or whatever else is going through your mind. So, just try it on.”

Stiles shakes his head but he puts on the brown leather jacket and unsurprisingly, it fits Stiles’s chest, arms and waist perfectly.

The jacket has a round neckline with a snap-button tab on the neck, long sleeves with padded shoulders, zipped cuffs, chest pockets, side zip pockets, an inside pocket, and a zip-up front.

“Okay, are you going to say anything?”

And there it is, that thing in Jackson’s voice that always gets to Stiles and he feels actually badly for not being more enthusiastic from the start. Besides, he knows very well that it’s not been easy to get this to him since he couldn’t buy it personally and had to get his mother involved.

“Fine, it’s beautiful, okay? It’s perfect, and I love it. Of course, I love it, but—”

“You look seriously hot.” Jackson nods. “Just go and check it out in the mirror because you look amazing. I don’t know why I didn’t get you one before.”

“Because you can’t do that. Normal people don’t—”

“Yes, I can—And I have. And you need to learn to accept gifts more gracefully from now on. Especially from me.”

Stiles snorts. “You’re the only one who—”

“Is your boyfriend and is allowed to get you any present he wants?” Jackson raises his eyebrows. Jackson knows perfectly well that Stiles remembers when he told him the same thing and he can’t possibly dispute his own argument. “In that case, yeah, that’s me,” Jackson nods again.

Stiles doesn’t say anything. He just slides his hand along the sleeve checking out the texture of the leather and opens and closes the zip pockets, before he finally zips the front.

“So, you think I look hot?” Stiles bites his lower lip, obviously not convinced.

“Very hot,” Jackson stresses both words, smiling.

“Shit, why did you get me this?” Jackson looks back at the screen, unzipping the jacket and sitting down at the desk again.

“Why? Jackson rolls his eyes dramatically. “You know why. You’re the one who forbade me to go and told me to stay here studying. You knew I’d get you something even if I wasn’t there.”

“I wished you were here… but you don’t need to be. I’m just talking to you. And... you know what I mean—This thing must cost a fortune. How did you even involve your mother in this?” Stiles frowns.

“Okay, firstly, you’re not, and I repeat: not allowed to google that jacket, so don’t even think about it. Secondly, yes, it’s not cheap, but nothing of quality is, and if it makes you feel better, it’s not too expensive either… this is something that you can use for years and I can afford it, as you know... And thirdly, when I asked her, she didn’t hesitate—she wanted to do me the favor, not to mention how much she loves to go shopping, so maybe this proves that she’s finally accepted you… which I’ll take as progress and growth of your relationship. Plus, you only turn twenty once… I think that gives me a certain reason to indulge... or whatever...”

If there’s a quality that Jackson has is that he always knows how to prove his points and defend all his actions, no matter how selfish or irrational they might seem to other people. Jackson can be insecure and might be sometimes afraid of not achieving his goals, but when it comes to defending his ideas, he’s the most fearless and confident person Stiles knows. He’s definitely going to be a good lawyer. Stiles has no doubt about it.

“I hate that you always know how to make a compelling argument,” Stiles admits. “And I hate even more that you always convince me of your bullshit.”

Jackson snorts a laugh, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I’m good, but I’m not that good, Stilinski—You just know I’m right… as usual.”

Stiles bites his lip and runs a hand through his long hair to move it out of his face and behind his ear.

“Umm… no, I wouldn’t say that… but yeah, I love it… and I love you, and you know that.”

“I do.” Jackson smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s that look in his eyes that Stiles can recognize too easily know. Days like today it’s even harder not being able to reach out to touch, and feel, and hold each other. It’s bittersweet.

Continue on AO3

[writingsbychlo]

School dance with Stiles

Stiles would be so soft at a dance, seriously. Let’s start with how he’d ask you to go to the dance with him.

Nervous would be the understatement of the century, and Scott was making fun of him.

“Just walk up to her and ask, Stiles.”

“She’s a really lovely person, she wouldn’t laugh at you, Stiles.”

“You’re being a coward, Stiles.”

Yes, he knew he was being a fucking coward, but it was easier for Scott. He’d made his move on Allison when she was new and didn’t know he was a loser. Somehow, he’d actually won her heart, and so asking his girlfriend of two years to go to Junior prom with him really wasn’t on the same level as Stiles trying to ask you.

You were the girl that Stiles had been in love with since you’d pushed Jackson over for bullying him in fourth grade. He’d been crushing on Lydia since the year before and so had Jackass Whittemore, who apparently hadn’t taken kindly to the competition and had cornered Stiles at playtime on the swing set. Jackson had been about to land a nasty little hit on Stiles with his grubby little fists when you’d shoved him over and given him an earful. Lydia had come prancing over to see what the commotion was and you’d yelled at her too, before you’d helped Stiles up, brushed the dirt off of him and pressed a little kiss to the bump that would soon grow.

Young Stiles had decided from that moment that he was absolutely smitten.

Unfortunately for him, Lydia thought your outburst was quite impressive and had decided you were her new best friend, and that friendship had lasted for almost a decade now. Which really hasn’t helped his longtime pining for you.

You’d risen to extreme popularity, and you’d only grown more beautiful, and for the last two years you’d been dating some stupid track-star from another school called Thomas or something, and Stiles had been bristling.

Except, you had dumped him when he cheated on you with a cheerleader called Teresa and though you’d been heartbroken, Stiles had been fucking thrilled.

Now, you were eight months single, you were happy and thriving and he wanted to make a move, except, he was terrified. In all his deliberating, he’d failed to notice that the group was on the move towards them, Allison practically skipping over toward Scott.

“Dude, better pull yourself together because they’re coming over.”

“What?!” Stiles spun around to look at you, panic filling his body as he practically shook while clutching the bouquet of flowers in his hands. With a startled dash, he tried to run, his body slamming into the open door of Scott’s locker and he collapsed to the ground, a loud groan on his lips as his eyes squeezed closed. “Oh, fuck..”

Jackson was snickering above him, Allison and Scott mumbling to themselves and he could hear the file moving over Lydia’s nails as she hummed a tune. Cracking his eyes open, he met your wide smile, and you were crouching before him, looking at him carefully. Reaching out a hand, you brushed off the dust covering his shoulders as he sat up, your fingers brushing over the red patch on his forehead before leaning forward, pressing a light kiss to his skin and Stiles felt his breathing stop entirely.

“That was a pretty bad bump, but I can say with, like, 99% certainty that I think you’ll live.” You have hin a wink, your eyes dropping to the crushed flowers in his hands as some of the petals fell to the ground. “Your flowers, not so much, but I’m pretty sure your girl will appreciate the gesture anyway.”

“You.”

“Hm?” He cursed himself, running a hand over his face as he tried to string together a sentence but the smell of your perfume was surrounding him and Stiles thought he may just die.

“Flowers. You. Prom.” He wanted to die. “Sorry.”

“Are you trying to ask me to prom, Stiles?” He merely nodded, and you held your hands out to him, taking his arm in yours and pulling him to his feet. “I’m wearing red.”

“What?”

“My dress is red and white, so I hope you have a red tie.”

“Is.. wait, is that a yes?” His hands flew out at his sides, and his jaw dropped as he watched you giggle at him.

“Can I still have the flowers?” He nodded, clamping his mouth shut in hopes that he wouldn’t say anything stupid as he thrust the broken flowers in your direction. “I’ll be getting ready at Lydia’s with her and Ally. Be there at 7.”

Stiles had literally never been happier, and Scott hated it because he’d been so fucking jittery for the entire two weeks before prom.

He hated Jackson. Stiles hated Jackson, because Jackson would not stop talking about his expensive designer suit and the plans he had for the night and he was really psyching Stiles out. Scott has tuned him out, he was used to this but god he couldn’t just ignore him because Jackson had a voice like nails on a chalkboard.

When the girls finally came down the stairs, he felt his heart stop. You looked fucking gorgeous, and he knew this was the best you had ever looked at one of these dances and he felt incredibly smug knowing that you were going with him.

He had presented you with a white corsage, a matching red rose tucking into his suit pocket and he had struggled not to stare at your lips because, holy shit, red lips really suited you.

He helped you into the jeep, he helped you out, he offered you his arm and tried to hold himself together when you’d instead laced your fingers with his. He got you punch and he danced with you and he told you how beautiful he thought you looked at every occasion the opportunity arose just so he could see you blush.

Now, he held you in his arms delicately as he swayed to what was either the seventh or eight slow song of the night, your chests pressed together as your head rested in his shoulder, your arms looped around his neck and his hands played out on your back.

“I always thought you’d look good with your hair grown out. Not that you didn’t look good before, but..”

“You.. um, you knew I existed before I slammed my face into a locker like an idiot?” He bit his lip, looking up to the ceiling as you giggled at him, pulling back to look at him as your fingers moved to play with the hairs at the base of his neck.

“Of course I did. I had the biggest crush on you in third grade, you know. But you had a crush on Lydia, and you made it very well known. Then she made me her friend, and you were always staring at her so I figured you weren’t over her. In the end, high school was starting and she was dating Jackson and you were still crazy for her so I started dating Thomas a-”

“It was never Lydia that I was staring at.”

“What?”

Your eyes were back on him, having drifted off over his shoulder and he pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. “I liked Lydia in third grade but I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since you pushed Jackson over and called him a ‘big meanie with a stupid haircut’.”

He let his eyes slide closed, silence hanging between the two of you as he continued to lead the two of you around the dance floor. “I would totally kiss you right now, but you’d end up with red lipstick all over your face.”

“I so don’t care.” He mumbled, dipping his head down to catch your lips with his as you let out a surprised squeak, happily sinking into his touch and giving him a little moan when he licked at the seam between your lips.

When Stiles dropped you off at home that night, he had reluctantly let you go after pinning you to the side of the jeep for twenty minutes so he could continue to indulge himself in the feeling of your lips on his.

“Stiles I gotta’ go..”

“Nooo, because if you stay, I can kiss you some more.” He pouted, whining as you pecked his lips once more before pulling away. When he looked down at you, he bit his bottom lip, your lips swollen from kisses and your eyes twinkling as he looked at you.

“How about a date, tomorrow? Pick me up for breakfast?”

“I’ll be here at 10, baby.”

“Okay.” You gave him a final kiss, before slipping into your house with a final goodbye, and he wandered back to the jeep and collapsed into the seat.

Looking in the mirror, he rolled his eyes at himself, using his thumb to wipe away the smeared red lipstick around his mouth, his heart racing as he thought about your date tomorrow morning.

[lettersofwrittencollective]

Divine Games

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective

Pairing: Void!Stiles x Reader 

Word Count: 2583

prompt: Anon request based off Billie Ellish’s Bad Guy

Warnings: Murder, extremely dubious consent, at one point it actually turns to rape, smut, dark fic, 

Notes: This took a dark turn. I don’t know how the hell I got this from that song but this is what I got… BE WARNED AND DO NOT READ THIS IF THE ABOVE ARE TRIGGERING (I will take no blame for you reading things you know bother you)  ****DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 ****

Masterlist || Teen Wolf Masterlist

As the music played around you, you couldn’t help but move along to the beat. It had been years since you had been in the human world, locked up within the nemeton for almost a century with your mate.

Your nine-tailed mate of 7000 years. 

The two of you had torn down empires just for the fun of it. You’d ruined politicians and family folks just because you’d been bored with your daily lives. It was the first time you’d done it that you’d realized just how sweet the taste of sorrow was and you’d taken the world by storm after that. 

A few centuries ago, your mate had picked up a body that still made you go weak in the knees. His hazel eyes with brown hair and moles that littered his face and jawline were something you would never tire of. The boy whose body he originally took over, was stronger than most of the humans and sometimes you would find that aspects of him still came out to play- though thankfully it had been a few years since the last time that had happened. 

Wearing a tight, sheer, white lacey bodysuit paired with a black latex skirt, you felt like a million bucks. Your mate had filled you with an intense confidence over the years, he was always insatiable to get more of you and it had made you feel like the embodiment of sex. 

As you move your body to the beat, it isn’t long before a pair of arms wrap around you. Smirking to yourself you turn in the arms of your mate and lean in to kiss him. 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers against your lips. 

“Oh is that so, tough guy?” you ask him as you kiss down his jawline, his scent intoxicating as he grips your hips tight enough that he’s sure to leave bruises there. 

He murmurs his affirmation into your skin before he flips you around and pulls you tightly to him, a hand holding you possessively across the abdomen. 

The two of you continue to dance for a few minutes before a growl escapes your mates lips. As he presses himself into you. 

“How about we get out of here kitten?” he tells you and you can’t help but giggle at the excitement that runs through your spine.  

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, you tell him as you push off him, “You’ll have to catch me first.”

You can hear his growl and can’t help but to laugh as you take off through the club. You’re winding your way through the bodies that are pulsing against each other when a hand reaches out and stops you. 

Looking over, you see a man with dirty blonde hair and striking silver eyes. He’s pulling you close to him, “What’s the rush sweetheart?”

You could feel the disgust running down your spine as he pulled you to him and couldn’t help but let out a low, warning growl. Which he, of course, ignored. 

Trying to get away from him, you caught your mate’s eye and you could see the glint of mischief in his eye. His eyes flicked over to the male and he offered you a toe-curling smile. Realizing that this would be a fun night for a different reason, you smirked at him before turning back to the blonde. 

Moving in to dance with him, you repeated the actions you had with your mate you imagined that it was his hands on your body, gripping your waist and squeezing your ass. You imagined it was his lips whispering filthy things in your ear about how he’d like to lift your skirt enough to fuck you on his cock right here, in front of everyone else. 

As you imagined it, you couldn’t help the small, needy whine that you made which the man took as your consent. You could feel him lifting the edges of your dress but the hands were wrong. They were much too smooth and there wasn’t enough force behind them. 

Quickly turning in his arms, you stop his hands from going anywhere and lean in, nibbling on his ear before asking, “Would you like to get out of here and have a real good time?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he whispers back, dragging your hand down to feel the outline of his cock pressed against his jeans. 

Trying not to roll your eyes, you play along as the lust-filled kitten, squeezing him for a moment before you pull your hand away and offer him a cheeky smile before making your way through the bodies, tugging him along with you. 

He’s driving and you check the mirror to check that your mate is following. The other male, John, has a hand on your knee and you have to remind yourself that you’re going to have fun with him and can’t scare him off just yet. 

It isn’t long before he pulls up to a hotel that seems nice enough. You get off the car and follow him into the lobby and to the elevators, as soon as you’re in his hands are all over you again and his lips are burning uncomfortably into your skin.  He hikes you up and you wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to paw at you and when the elevator stops, he continues to hold you as he walks you towards his room. 

Almost as soon as the door is open, he’s being pushed in from behind and you are too. The man stumbles, falling with you before you’re able to disentangle yourself from him and you both hit the floor a bit harder than expected. 

A menacing growl causes goosebumps to pop up all over your skin as you look up and over the male to see your mate standing there. 

Pushing the man on you off, it only takes your mate a moment to pick you up and pull you into his arms where he immediately starts to scent you. He licks long stripes along your exposed flesh and you can feel the anger radiating off of him. His hands are all over your body at once and you can barely keep up with where they are. 

When a groan catches his attention you can’t help but pout as he pulls away. Stepping back, you move into the small bathroom as you hear him moving the other males body. Flicking on the light you take in your appearance and can’t help but pout. The fall must have given you a bloody nose and now it’s dripped down to your bodysuit. 

“Babe,” you pout, “He gave me a bloody nose…”

Void’s on you moment later as he wipes away the blood on your face. His hands are tender, loving, caring… he worships your face the same way that he worships your body. A man starved for your touch and your presence. It, thankfully, doesn’t take him very long before he’s moved you to sit on the counter as he stands between your legs. 

He cups your face and kisses you softly before murmuring against your lips, “Are you alright darling?”

Kissing the tip of his nose you nod your head before the shaking of the man in the other room pulling at his restraints grabs both of your attention. A thought comes to your head and you look at your mate, “How about we teach the boy a lesson?” 

You can see Void’s eyes fill with lust at the thought. It was, perhaps, your fault that he’d come to enjoy these lessons so much. After all, it would lead to a meal for both his physical appetite and his more carnal appetite. 

He pulled a knife from you his back pocket and used it to cut some of the lace on your bodysuit, the cold tip of the metal causing you to shiver in anticipation before he handed you the knife. Smiling at him, you took the knife and made your way back into the room. 

John was tied up to the bed, one arm to each bedpost and when he saw you walking out, his anger quickly turned to lust. “Sweetheart, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask,” he told you as he eyed you. 

“Now, what would have been the fun in that?”  you ask him as you climb onto the bed and tug on his pants.

Making quick work of his clothing, it isn’t long until he’s out of his pants and boxers before you slowly remove your skirt. It isn’t long before you move so that you’re straddling the man. 

Taking the knife, you cut off the man's shirt as he smirks up at you, “And what’s a naughty girl like you planning on doing up there?”

You ran your fingers along the ridges and planes of his body. The man was quite fit and if you had been someone else you may just ride him to orgasm but as it was, you had different plans for him. 

A smirk played across your lips as you dragged the tip of the knife across the very same planes and ridges that your fingers had just followed. He let out a small moan and you realized that he was, also, enjoying this. 

Chuckling softly, you knicked his skin and heard him suck in a breath of air.

“Oh relax darling, we’re just getting started,” you told him as you created an identical nick on the other side of his body. This time, eliciting a moan from his lips. 

Smiling softly, you rotated your hips just above his, the friction causing him to unconsciously buck up, seeking friction against your heat. 

“Come on baby girl, let me show you a good time,” the male told you and you could hear your mate chuckling behind you. The man beneath you stiffens as he tries to look around you and you move your head so that no matter where he looks, you're blocking his view. 

You can feel the bed dip slightly as your mate comes up behind you and you watch as John's eyes widen into comical saucers. Seconds later you can feel your mates large hands settle upon your breast. A whine escapes you as you bite your lip, pressing them further into his hand. 

“Now what do you have here, kitten?” his husky voices ask you and you lean your head backward to rest on his shoulder. 

“A present, of course, my love,” you answer him and even you can hear the breathiness in your voice, the neediness. 

He kneads your breasts a bit and as he does you can feel yourself grinding down onto John. It doesn’t take long for you to be soaking through the bodysuit

Void had taken the knife and added a few knicks to John's body and when you managed to look at his face you can see the terror in his eyes. 

“Please…” he whispers, begging for his life, “please don’t kill me…”

You take the knife from Void and cut a shallow cut in his abdomen, a smirk appearing on your lips, “Now why would we do that?”

Voids hands have moved, one is kneading your breast and the other is at your clit, he’s pulled the bodysuit to the side. He’s kissing your shoulder as he makes his way to your neck and up to the shell of your ear. 

“He’s all yours kitten,” he tells you as he slips a finger into your dripping cunt. You moan at the pressure before you lean over John who’s now covered in blood. 

Leaning in, you kiss him softly. The boy is confused for a moment before he seems to think that playing along will save him and he returns your kiss. As he does, you smirk into the kiss before digging the knife into his abdomen, he’ll bleed out slowly but likely not before Void’s done with you. 

His scream of pain makes your cunt squeeze around your mate’s fingers and you feel him pull his hand away before he spanks you, hard. Letting out a small yelp, you’re surprised to find yourself impaled on his thick cock. 

“Baby please,” you begged when he didn’t move. 

John was attempting to wriggle his way out of his bindings beneath you but Void had tied him up nicely and he wasn’t going to be getting out of that any time soon. As he moved around, you dragged your lace-covered chest across his bare one, the friction of the lace and the heat of his skin with the feel of his blood made you rock yourself on your mates cock slowly, sensually. 

It was as you were rocking yourself on him that he growled menacingly at you and pulled you back onto him until he was buried to the hilt and you let out a scream of pleasure as he pressed against your g-spot. 

His thrusts into you became faster and faster and you could only let out whimpers and moans as he continued to pound into your tight cunt. The room quickly filled with the scent of sex and of death as John bled out beneath you. His fights had become weaker but by this point, Void was riding you like a mad man. 

You could feel yourself clenching around him as he muttered into your skin and you fucked yourself back onto him. 

John’s whimpers beneath you only serve to fuel your lust. His death bringing the sweet taste of sorrow to both your lips as your mate seeks salvation in your cunt. The force of his thrusts drive you to your forearms where you once again meet John. 

Leaning in to kiss him, you can tell he’s in his last few minutes as the sweet, sweet taste of death has seeped into the kiss itself. 

You could feel yourself nearing your orgasm and Void could as well. 

“Come on kitten, cum on my cock,” he demands and you’re sure that his own orgasm isn’t far behind. He reaches around you to play with your clit once more, playing you like a violin causing your cunt to pulse even tighter around him. 

As John’s heart stopped, you felt your orgasm rip through you. Your body shaking at the intense pleasure as you came on him. You could feel your cunt clenching around him and you consciously tightened further around him, milking him for all he was worth. 

You could feel spurts of his seed painting your walls and still, your mate continued to plow into you. He continued cumming, your name falling from his lips in a prayer before finally collapsing against your body 

  He moved quickly, however, pulling out of you and you whimpered at the loss before he picked you up in both his arms. He made his way to the bathroom, setting you on the counter as he turned on the shower. 

As soon as the water was warm enough, he got in with you and took his time peeling the now bloody lace from your skin. It felt like it had been ages since the last time that the two of you had done something like this and one of the unfortunate side-effects of the high that it gave you was the crash that came with it. 

Void would spend the next few hours caring for you, worshiping you, praying to you as he brought your body back to normal. 

-

Masterlist || Teen Wolf Masterlist

-

taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @nicole-lynne @mummybear @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @lucifersnipnips

[fuckthesworld]

CLAIM ( STILES x THOMAS x READER )

Summary: An Alpha seems to think that it’s alright to try to mate the Reader…They seemed to forget that she belonged to the Stilinski. Stiles and Thomas intend to remedy that.

Hey, sexy!” One of the new alphas call out in excitement at the sight of the Pack Omega. Y/N rolls her eyes and continues her work, ignoring the laughter from said alpha and his friends. It was clear that they didn’t have anything better to do. “Come over here and sit on Master’s lap!”

“Yeah, come on!” Another calls.

“C’mere baby, I wanna see what those lips look like around my knot!” The entire group explodes into laughter after hearing one particular alpha say that, but Y/N just rolls her eyes again and begins to scrub at a stubborn spot on the kitchen counter. She hears the Bar door creak open and smells her alphas’ scent spreading through the building as they make their way to her. She can also hear their quick steps echoing down the halls sounding louder and louder as they approach the kitchen.

Her alphas, Stiles and Thomas Stilinski had gone for the pack meeting and hadn’t been able to come back in. Usually around this time of the season they’d all go into their shared bedroom for when their ruts and heat aligned, but because of all of the new arrivals, this was virtually impossible recently.

The alphas semi-harassing her back off as they catch the larger duo’s scents. Stiles and Thomas enter the kitchen with tired but happy grins on their faces as they walk up and scent their omega. Multiple partners in mating bonds weren’t uncommon, including those with had more than one sibling in it.

They both step close to either side of her, nuzzling her and showing blatant affection. Y/N purrs as they lavish her with attention, her chore of cleaning the bar forgotten.

One moment Y/N was wiping down the table and the next she’s suddenly pinned against the Table with two hundred pounds of alpha muscle pressed against her back. A large hand squeezes the juncture of her waist and hip tightly, painfully, and she tries to twist out its grip only to hurt herself more. She hears the alpha holding her inhale deeply.

“Mmm….”

“Ugh-What?! What the hell are you doing?!” She screeches. “Let me go!”

“Shut up!” The alpha snarls. “You want this, walking around in those tight-ass blue jean short and those tiny tops…Fuck, can you feel how hard I am? This is all for you.”

“Let me go!” Y/N snaps. His hands begin to roam, causing panic to fill her. In response, she begins to shriek. “Sti! Tommy!”

“They’re busy, they can’t hear you.” The alpha murmurs into her ear. “They wouldn’t help anyway. They like to share you between themselves so much-who are they to tell me I can’t-“

Y/N takes in a deep breath before finally screaming out one word that echoes through the Bar:

“ALPHA!”

Several pairs of footsteps echo towards them in response, different alphas instinctively responding to the fearful cry for help.

“What the fuck?!” Comes a loud snarl, equally loud and aggressive growling following it. The alpha pinning Y/N stomach down and ass up jerks his head in its direction.

Thomas was the one who had snarled and Stiles was holding a book and growling. Apparently they’d found a word that neither of them knew the definition for and Stiles laptop was charging because it was dead, so they went to find their mate (who was an English major). They heard her scream mid-approach and had broken into a furious run. The scene they found most definitely didn’t please them.

“Let her go.” Thomas growls. The alpha does as told and Y/N zips over to them. Stiles hands her the heavy heavy book and pushes her behind them both, his tough much more gentle than it would be when he got his hands on the other alpha. Thomas stalks away and out of sight while Stiles turns back around to face the offending male, eyes dark and angry.

Thomas fist slamming into the side of his face and feels his tailbone ache as his ass slams onto the ground from where he’d knocked him down. He looks up at him, eyes murderous and pushes himself up before swinging at the pack alpha as hard as he can, not caring that he was above him in presentation. It connects with his ribs and winds him, but as he recovers Stiles jumps the random alpha and beats him straight in the nose with his bat. He’s slightly satisfied by the crack he hears and feels and the feeling of blood staining his bat.

Within a few minutes the offending alpha was keening in pain from the floor where the brothers had beaten him to a bloody pulp. No one moved to help him in the slightest and Y/N quietly calling her alphas to her side.

In less than ten seconds the three had disappeared down the hallway. Thomas picks up his omega and carries her through the halls, her legs locked around his hips and her arms looped round his neck. One of his hands held her up by her ass. Stiles follows, glancing warily around them.

They enter their bedroom and Thomas gently sets her smaller form down on the bed. He kisses the top of her head affectionately. He pulls away slowly.

“Stay there, baby, and don’t move.” Thomas growls. Y/N shivers in excitement.

Y/N suddenly felt her older alpha’s lips tracing their down the skin of her neck, over and around her breasts, and down towards her pussy. Y/N could feel herself getting wetter and wetter by the minute. She moaned loudly as she did it again and again, lapping hungrily at the omega’s pussy. Stiles darkened eyes watched the currently mating pair with a deeply hungry look.

Out of nowhere, he strolled forward and captured his omega’s gasping lips with his, kissing her deeply and desperately.

“Ours.” He growls. “Ours.”

“Yours!” She moans. She reaches a hand up and buried it in his hair only for him to pull it out and take her by the wrists. He pulls her so she’s laying horizontally across the bed with her head hanging over the side perfectly aligned with his crotch. He quickly unzips his pants and kicks both them and his underwear into a far corner. Thomas, annoyed by their omega’s movement, gets himself comfortable between Y/N’s legs again and starts tonguing her pussy. When she gasps from the feeling of her alpha’s tongue rolling around deep inside her, Stiles takes the chance to shove his cock in her mouth.

Y/N suddenly felt her older alpha’s lips tracing their down the skin of her neck, over and around her breasts, and down towards her pussy. Y/N could feel herself getting wetter and wetter by the minute.

Y/N almost shrieked when she felt Thomas tongue stroke her clit, and Stiles groaned at the way her throat vibrates around his cock. Bracing himself on the bed, he begins to furiously fuck her throat.

“Yes, yes, yes!” He grunt. “‘babygirl”

She chokes a little around his dick, but she’s used to being used this way, so it isn’t that much of an issue-not that they used her and threw her away, no! She just liked it really, really rough. He groans as slowly but surely he gets closer and closer while Thomas continues sucking Y/N’s clit and lavishing her pussy with affection like his life depended on it. Her back arched and she screamed. Ignoring this, Thomas kept sucking, the suction behind it getting stronger and stronger. Y/N’s breathing had quickened and she was moaning her alphas’ names like a bitch in heat. Her orgasm was slowly building until Thomas gave her one final lick and she just lost it. She screamed again, sending vibrations that were so strong down Stiles cock that he had to pull it from her throat. Her legs clamped tightly around Thomas head, her fingernails scratching his scalp as she grabbed at him due to him continuing to lick her pussy.

“Yes! Yes! Alpha! Please!” She begs, not exactly sure what she was begging for.

Once she’s calmed down, she discovers that Thomas withdrawn and is furiously walking around their room. Stiles is sitting in the chair across the room. She stands and walks over to stand beside him despite her weak legs.

“Hmm…C’mere, babygirl.” Stiles purrs. He pulls her onto his naked lap as Thomas growls and paces around outside. Y/N can tell that he’s still completely pissed despite their foreplay, and to distract her Stiles picks her up and sits her down carefully onto his hard length. She gasps excitedly as he slowly eases her down his long, thick cock. Once she’s taken all of it, he carefully begins to thrust up into her.

“Fuck, Sti-!” She exclaims. “More!”

He sped up the repeated thrusts of his hips, nipping desperately at Y/N’s neck and pulling her body closer to him with one arm around her waist. He stands from the chair, bouncing her repeatedly onto his cock as he carried her to the bed. He pulled her from his cock and bent her over the bed, holding her close with one arm looped under her stomach. Y/N groans as he buries his cock so deep inside that she knew if she rubbed her tummy she’d feel the head bulging up through the skin. Y/N whines as she feels another orgasm slowly build up. Sti’s breathing quickened and Y/N immediately knew his release would be soon. He somehow managed to bury his cock even deeper and Y/N screamed his name as her climax rippled through her. He roars as he forces his newly-swollen knot into her and his own orgasm paints the inside of her pussy with his cum. She collapses against her second alpha, but before she can relax she’s being tugged off of Stiles soft cock and presses against the wall.

Thomas hard length is buried into her snatch before she can let out another moan;

Y/N vaguely wonders if Noah is awake and can hear anything as she was being fucked hard against the bedroom door.

“You are ours!” Thomas snarls, slamming his cock into her cunt repeatedly. She moans and scratches at the doorframe. Within a minute his knot is catching on her cunt and he’s shoving it inside, adding his cum to that of his brother’s. Her stomach distends slightly as the amount of the mixture of their cum stretches the area it was contained by.

Twenty minutes later, the trio are laying together in a warm ball when Y/N asked her mates a question nervously.

“Y-You arent mad at me, are you?” Y/N asks quietly. Her alphas roll around in bed, wanting to look at her square on.

“Why on earth would we be mad at you, babygirl?” Stiles asks, confused. Thomas nods.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, he was touching me-“

“Did you ask him to?” Thomas asks. Y/N pauses, then shakes her head. He shoots her a soft smile. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about. You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.”

“Tommy is right, babygirl.” Sti purrs. She smiles softly, knowing that they were using their pet names for her so often because they knew how much she liked them. “Now let’s go to sleep…I think we’re all exhausted.”

MASTERLIST

[p4lparker]

I’ll Save You

It was scary. After everything we'd been through; Crazy Peter Hale, Hunters and a Kanima. This was by far the worst threat we'd faced.

Virgin sacrifices.

For who knows what purpose, but still at four sacrifices, we were beginning to worry. I'd try to go through the school day- learning as normal, but all of my focus laid with a blurred face of a mutilated teenager. The next victim. Scott was worried, we had no idea who was behind this, and anyone could be next. Well not just anyone, only people who hadn't done the do just yet. I'd been keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any sign of a clue or something to help us protect people, but I had nothing. Stiles was working over drive, writing on his crime board and furiously trying to figure out a pattern or a way to put an end to it all. But no dice, and I could tell he was becoming increasingly upset by that. We were in his room. I watched as he wrote something on his board then wiped it off moments later, I watched as he tapped his pen against his teeth. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, he tugged at the ends and groaned from the lack of inspiration and partially the pain I'm guessing. I stayed studying him from my position on the bed.

"Hey, we'll work it out- don't worry.." I said to him, trying to soothe his obviously frayed nerves. As he turned d to face me; I took my chance to really look at him. His face was pale, his skin looking as if he were ill, the bags under his eyes looked as if they had bags. I could see the stubble decorating the bottom half of his face, him being so focused on trying to keep people alive- shaving had slipped his mind. I saw the rumpled clothes covering his body, as if he'd just grabbed them from the floor, I saw the twinkle that was usually in his chocolatey gaze- was missing. All in all, Stiles Stilinski was a mess.

 "Yeah, we'll figure it out Y/N. But how many others have to die. Be sacrifices before we do. It might be someone we know next time... One of our friends! And we can’t do shit, cause we're a bunch of scared kids who are in over our heads. We can't protect anyone, especially not ourselves!" Was the snapped answer I received. I just stayed frozen in my place. My eyes wide and head angled back slightly in shock. I bit my lip, before I looked away from him. Not wanting him to see how hurt his words and tone of voice had made me feel. It was kind of lame, to be so upset by frustrated words; but Stiles had never, ever spoken to me like that. And it was a shock to the system to say the least. I looked down at the book in my lap, my fingers brushing against the page absent minded manner- trying to distract myself.

"You're right. I guess we should stop bothering then yeah? Let whatever it is take kids and murder them for no reason.. Other than them being virgins. Cause we're useless and can't win right?" I hissed, as an anger bubbled up inside me. Stiles had never spoken to me like that, and I wasn't going to let him start now. I let my eyes lift to watch as his shoulders tensed. “Maybe we should just throw all of this away and turn our backs on everything huh?” I stated, my voice getting stronger with each word- the anger fuelling me. As I shoved all of the books covering Stiles’ bed and my legs onto the floor. I stood up and stared at him-trying to prove a point before yanking up my bag and jacket. I flung open the door and stormed out. With each step I felt anger surging me further out of the house- it burned fiercely and forced me into my car, I drove myself home and settled in for the night. Slamming open the door, giving it the same treatment to close it. I stomped to my room- flinging clothes off as I went. Yanking on sleep clothes and throwing myself into bed for the night. I drifted off eventually, but it was into a fitful nights sleep.

The next morning I woke up in a similar mood to the one I went to bed in. I could still feel the rage simmering underneath my skin. Going through the motions of getting ready for the day; I soon arrived at school and was able to ignore Stiles in person, instead of just avoiding his messages and calls. Every chance I got, I avoided him. Not wanting to be near him until I calmed down. At the end of the day, he approached me cautiously; head bowed sheepishly, hands fidgeting with each other and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. And it made my heart stutter at how he presented himself. His body language screamed that he was asking for forgiveness, and I thought I’d let him stew a little longer for my own selfish enjoyment before granting the reconciliation I’d already planned to give him. I looked at him from the corner of my eye and with my books and bag; waltzed from the building and to the parking lot. I smiled to myself as I rest against Stiles’ jeep and waited for him to make an appearance. I watched as he walked to the car, head still bowed and fingers still fidgeting- but now with the keys, he hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Stilinski!” I called, watching as his body jerked in surprise. His arms flying out to ward off an oncoming attacker; not that it would do much good. His head swinging up at a pace that obviously gave him a crick in his neck from the way he gripped it. His gaze was wide and worried until he spotted me leaning against the hood of the car. I smiled slightly and moved forwards until I could wrap my arms around him- the sadness on his face made me wish I could squeeze it from his body, once his own arms squeezed me back. I finally sighed and pulled back from him. Nodding my head to the car stood beside us, Stiles smiled slightly and let us both in. He drove us slowly to his house, and parked in the driveway before he led us both into the house. We dumped our bags by the end of his bed, when we finally made it to his room.

 "Hey nerd, I forgive you. I get it. This whole sitch is messed up. And maybe you're right, maybe we can't help people or save them or protect them. But we can try!" I murmured as I noticed his hunched body. I ruffled his already messy hair as I walked past him on my way to throw myself at his computer. I let my fingers dance over the keys- I tried to delve into why virgins would be sacrificed. But at every turn I was stonewalled. Most of the websites or 'research' was made by hacks who were probably still in their Goth phase. It had been the same thing for the last hour. Either Stiles or I groaning in frustration, as we each hit another dead end in the research. We were getting nowhere and it was beginning to make me lose hope and my mind. I looked over to see Stiles slumped, his head hanging off the side of the bed and the book he was reading was lying on top of his head. He was defeated as his tired eyes looked up at me.

 "Any luck?" He all but sighed out, gesturing to the computer behind me. I shook my head and he growled tugging at his hair. I stood from his desk chair and flopped onto the bed landing on him. He let out an 'Ooof' as I landed on his back. I giggled lightly before rolling off him and landing beside him with a bounce. He turned his face to look at my own. His eyes still looked sad, his whole demeanour was that of a stranger- and it was beginning to drive me crazier than the failed researching.

 "Alright Stilinski. You're moping is making me want to punch you.. Spill." I stated poking his cheek with my finger, it following all of the freckles and moles that were scattered about his skin. He frowned before glaring at my prodding appendage.

"Gee, I don't think punching me will help. It would probably make me feel worse, I mean then I'd be in physical pain and I may even get a black eye or something, and that would just make my mood worse. Cause then I'd have to explain how I got beat up by you to everyone.. And that is just embarrassing..." Stiles began to ramble, his words flowing out of his mouth quickly, so quickly they made me dizzy. I cut him off before my head could explode by pressing my hand over his mouth and stopping his words escaping. His eyes were wide as I felt my own narrow. One of his eye lids dropped into a wink, which made me narrow my eyes further wondering what he had planned. Until I felt something wet settle into the palm of my hand and make a trail up it. I realised with a grimace, that it was his tongue. He'd licked my hand. He'd licked my hand like a 5th grader.

 "Ewww! You licked me!" I called out, whipping my hand from his face in disgust. Stiles just smirked sticking his tongue out at me in victory. I glared at him before talking him from the bed all together. We rolled until we landed in a heap on the floor. As we tumbled, he’d miraculously managed to twist and turn until he was situated underneath me- it was impressive, and he let out another huff of air as it was forced from his body by my weight landing on him. I stared at him from above and smiled brightly at his slightly pained grimace- before shoving myself off of him and pulling him up after me.

“How about we watch a movie.. Forget about the research that is taking us nowhere for now and just relax. It looks like you need it..” I suggested pointing to the Tv in the room. I’d already decided what we’d watch, all I needed was for him to agree and to actually relax for a while; maybe then he’s tell me what was bugging him so much. He just stared at me and nodded, a faint smile painting his lips. I pushed all of the books onto the floor and from his comfy bed; much like I had done the night before, but this time I was slightly more gentle about it. I grinned and gestured for him to leave the room- meaning he was to make the popcorn whilst I set up in the bedroom. I watched as he walked from the room,  he was muttering under his breath as he went. I smiled and set to making the bed comfy, I scanned the wrack of DVD’s on his walls grinning as the exact one I was looking for was in a prized position in the centre. Pulling it from the shelf and placing it delicately in the side of his TV- I let it play through until it got to the menu and selected the play movie section. I waited until he trundled back up the stairs and plonked himself down on the bed next to me. I heard a gasp and turned my head to face him, his face was covered in a broad grin- his eyes were lit up and sparkling, his teeth were showing and his dimples looked deeper than ever. Just looking at the happiness on his face was contagious, I couldn’t help but grin back at him.  We both settled in for the movie, not long into it I noticed Stiles wasn’t as into it as he usually would be. And my mind drifted back to worrying for him. I gently gripped his hand between both of my own, squeezing softly.

“What’s wrong Robin?” I whispered softly, still squeezing his hand. He turned to look at me, but this time a grin wasn’t covering his face. A frown was; a deep frown that furrowed his eyebrows, one that  made his chocolatey gaze appear muddy, one that made my heart ache slightly.

“I’m scared Y/N.” Was all he whispered back, I nodded and wrapped my arms around his shoulders- pulling him towards me and into a slightly awkward hug. I could hear him sigh softly, as his head rested on my shoulder. I wondered how I could make thing better for him, and my mind was coming up empty; his cool breath was causing goose-bumps to raise on the exposed skin. Biting my lip to ensure he couldn’t tell of the change in my body, I could feel the shivers wanting to wrack my body. Ignoring the feeling, and deciding to pull him closer to me- slipping one leg over his hips, one leg on each side of his hips. I let my arm circle around his shoulders, running my fingers through his growing hair- as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kept his head resting against my collarbone. “I’m terrified I’m next..” he whispered so lowly, I struggled to hear his words. I pulled back slightly, causing him to lift his head and look me directly in the eyes; his caramel gaze was solemn, and I thought I could see unshed tears shining within the depths.

“Scott wouldn’t let that happen. And neither would I…” I stated firmly, looking him in the eyes- I could feel the determined expression on my face. I watched as he shook his head, obviously not believing my words. I frowned, I would save him. I wouldn’t let anything happen to this beautiful boy I was wrapped around. An idea burst through my mind, and before I could comprehend my actions. His face was turned to the side, avoiding me- I moved my face in line with his own. Gently letting my lips press against his own softly; I could feel the uncertainty in his pouted lips, his head turning to face me once more. I pulled back slowly, looking to his frowned face to see his reaction. It was apparent after a couple minutes of silence and Stiles sitting completely still- which was a feat in itself, that he wasn’t going to make a move to either stop this or push it onwards. Taking in a deep breath, and settling my shaken resolve- I pressed forwards again. My lips pushed against his own, the fusion of our lips just as gentle as before. We kissed gently for what felt like eternity; neither of us pushing it, wanting to stay in that moment for as long as possible- lips moving with each other delicately. Our lips parted for seconds- allowing for breath, but they soon met again. It was like were both addicted to one another’s lips; his were plump and smooth, as they danced with my own. Stiles left a lingering kiss on my mouth, pulling back just slightly.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He whispered, his plush lips brushing against my own with every word he spoke- sending my mind fuzzy with the sensation, I tried to concentrate on what he’d said; but my mind was spinning quickly and slowly all at once.

“I’m kissing you.” I stated simply, before pushing my lips that last millimetre to meet his own. I wasn’t sure what he made of my response, but he didn’t stop kissing me. His hold on my waist was tight, his large hands squeezing gently, holding me to him as if he was worried I’d disappear. Shifting myself in his lap to get more comfortable, my centre coming into contact with his own. A whiny moan escaped our lips, I wasn’t sure who it came from- but it seemed like the sound had flicked some kind of switch in my brain. Gasping as his lips left my own, grazing over my chin and down to the skin of my neck. He pressed a kiss on the column- as if testing out some scientific theory, pulling back to see my reaction. I could feel my eyes were closed, and my mouth was open in a silent moan. He surged forwards and let his lips trace kisses down the delicate skin- leading towards my collarbone. When he made contact with the skin there, I let out the moan that was desperately clawing at my vocal chords to be released. He chuckled against my skin, before pressing one last kiss to it- his lips searching for my own. Finding their home against them, and pulling me into a passionate kiss. His tongue poking out to tickle against my bottom lip, I giggled at the feeling and let him in. Letting him map out my mouth, his tongue touching and tasting- dancing with my own. My fingers tangled themselves in his soft hair, pressing him more firmly against me.

His dexterous fingers traced over my sides, before settling on my hips- he pushed me down further onto him. Unconsciously pushing my hips back and forth on him, giving us both a delicious friction that had me wanting more; but I remembered this was for him. But as things progressed, I realised I needed this too. I needed to feel him and see him come undone- passion and lust shining on his face as euphoria washed over him. Pulling my fingers from his hair, settling them on his shoulders- feeling the soft material of his checked shirt beneath my excited fingers; I pushed the material to fall from his broad shoulders, revealing the white cotton t-shirt beneath. I pulled back from the kiss and stared into his eyes, tugging gently on his over shirt until it reached his wrists; he promptly let go of my hips, allowing me to pull it from his hands, letting my fingers wander to the hem of his t-shirt- I gently tugged it up. Stiles got the message, and aided me in pulling it up his lean torso; with each centimetre of skin that was revealed, I could see the smooth skin, taut and lean over the visible muscles- which jumped when my fingers made contact. Stiles tried to reach up and connect our lips again, but I denied him in favour of just staring at him. His pale skin, unmarked and tempting. His lean frame, tucking in towards his waist but broadening at his shoulders, his biceps bunched slightly as they gripped at my own t-shirt. His veiny forearms; which had stared in many of my day dreams, leading down to his nimble fingers. I could see a faint blush lighting his speckled cheeks, when I turned my glance to his face. Hi bottom lip was being wet by his tongue as it poked out of his mouth. I could feel his fingers delving under the fabric of my top, discovering the skin of my stomach. He tugged slightly at the material, and I lifted my arms above my head; allowing him to remove the top and drop it next to our bodies. His fingers traced over the skin softly, so softly it tickled and caused a giggle to bubble from my lips. He smiled at the reaction, before pressing his fingertips more firmly into the skin- he tickled me quicker, causing our joined laughter to ring out and drown the sounds from the tv playing in the background.

I pushed my lips to his, distracting his fingers from their task. They still rest against my waist and hips, but had ceased their movements; as his lips took over the movements. One of his hands runs up my body and lands on my neck- his thumb bracing my jaw as our lips move in synchronicity. I let my fingers trail over his torso; feeling the soft, smooth skin, tracing them further down until they rest against the buckle of his belt. I slipped the leather through the metal and let it fall open, before gently wiggling the button of his jeans through the hole- dragging the zip down it’s track. Stroking over the band of his boxers delicately- it was then that he gasped and pulled back from my lips; his caramel eyes dark with lust, holding a look of uncertainty as he stared from his open trousers and my eager hand- to my face.  

“What’re you doing?” He repeated, his voice cracking. I looked at his face; his eyebrows were furrowed as they tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I’m going to make you feel good..” I muttered against his lips, before pushing gently on his chest. Forcing him to lie on the bed he was sat on- I lifted myself from his slightly and heard a disappointed groan erupt from him. I looked up at his face, before dropping my lips to the skin I was desperate to touch. Kissing over his neck, biting at it and sucking a mark into his skin- proving he was mine. Before trailing lower, grazing over his chest- licking at the lines of his body. Gradually dipping over the definition on his stomach, licking lower until it traced over the waistband of his boxers. I placed my fingers in the front pockets of his jeans and tugged them down; them getting stuck on his hips, and thighs, and finally his knees. I struggled to pull them from his body for laughing so hard- his chuckles joined my own as he raised his hips and manoeuvred his legs around to help me. Once I had the material in my hands, I huffed out a breath before throwing the fabric away as if it offended me. Stiles was leaning up on his elbows and watching as I tossed the jeans away from me- sticking my tongue out as they went sailing across the room. I turned to face him again; and gasped at the sight of him, sat there and waiting for me to join him once more. I moved back over to him, straddling him once more and connecting our lips. He was more confident now, and let his own tongue play with mine quickly, I rest my weight on one hand before allowing my other to feel over his heated skin. Finally coming to a stop at the bulge in his boxers, pressing against it lightly- only to feel his jolt up to meet it more fully. I squeezed him through the thin fabric, trying to get used to the size of him with my hand. A needy whine bubbled from his throat, that made my hand take hold of him through the material and pump him gently. A strangled sound came from him, as wetness leaked onto the fabric and my hand slightly- a wetness pooled in my own underwear at the desperate sounds he was making.

Palming him with one hand, and letting the other pull at the waistband of his boxers- tugging them down and letting him spring free. His cock resting on his stomach heavily- drops of pre-come leaking from the pink tip, the colour almost matching the dusting on his cheeks. I cast my eyes back up his body- seeing his almost black eyes focused solely on me; watching me marvel at him and his nakedness. Not being able to hold back any longer- my tongue licked up the underside of him- tracing along the prominent vein, feeling every ridge before licking over the head. All I could hear was growling and groaning from above me; my eyes rolled up to watch him. His eyes were screwed shut tightly, his bottom lip was being bitten by his teeth and his arm was thrown over his forehead- fist clenched in mid-air, his other was fisting the sheets. I opened my lips, holding him at the base and slipped him inside.

“Oooh..” Stiles whined out. I let him get used to the feeling of being wrapped in my mouth, I gently sucked the head- and was rewarded with more pre-come leaking out onto my waiting tongue. I slowly slipped my lips further over him, taking more of him into my waiting mouth. Bobbing up and down his heavy cock slowly, the parts of him I couldn’t fit into my greedy mouth, I massaged with my hand. My pace quickened just slightly, moving over him at a steady rate. Tasting him more and more as he leaked, I flickered my eyes back up his body as my mouth moved up and down him. His hands were flapping in the air- almost awkwardly, and his eyes were wide staring down at me in wonder, his mouth was dropped open as noises continued to fall from his pouted lips. Growls, groans, moans and whines. All eliciting my own moans as I continued my work, I pulled from him slowly with a pop. Grabbing onto his hand- with the one of mine that wasn’t rubbing over him- and tangling his delicious fingers with my hair, securing it there before moving my lips back over him; his answering whine was needy and made me push myself further down on him before coming back up at a quicker pace. I could feel him thrusting into my mouth, trying to match pace- but he was struggling his lips stuttering when the pleasure got to much- our rhythm didn’t match, but from the desperate calls coming from him I wasn’t sure he minded entirely. His hips jolted more quickly, forcing himself further into my mouth; my throat gagging on him slightly, swallowing the tip of him- I let him thrust into my mouth until finally he filled my mouth with a loud shout. Swallowing his taste down, I moved up his cock gently- knowing he’d be sensitive until he left my lips softly.

I stared down at him; his chest heaving, stomach muscles twitching rapidly as he panted in and out. I watched his face, still scrunched in pleasure and slick with sweat, then I let my eyes drop lower to look at his still erect cock. I felt my eyes widen, a smile tugging at my lips to see him so eager and ready; resting hard and heavy against his lower stomach. I stood from my knees, Stiles opened his eyes and watched; as I reached behind me, flicking the clasp of my bra open, I slid one strap down one shoulder- then the other and let the fabric cage fall from my chest. I watched as Stiles sat up fully; his hungry eyes wandering all over the newly expose flesh, devouring the sight before him. Moving my hands to the fastening on my jeans and popping the button, forcing the zip down its track. And pushing the jeans over my hips and bottom; bending at the hips and tracing them down my legs- all the while not taking my eyes from Stiles’ awe-struck face. I was stood before him in some owl printed underwear; but I wasn’t embarrassed, I had never felt more sexy- than that moment with his desperate eyes tracing over my near bare body. Slipping my thumbs in the elasticated waistband and tugging them from my body- I stood before the Stillinski boy completely naked. His eyes were still wide and dark, and he raised his hands for me. I intertwined our fingers as he pulled me over him- legs either side of his waiting body. Pressing his eager lips against my own and beginning another bout of endless kissing; soft and gentle, yet hard and passionate all at the same time, it was confusing and addictive. I let my fingers find his weighty member again, stroking him up and down- moving him between our bodies. He was poised in front of my folds, I raised myself up; preparing to plunge him deep within me, completely lost in the moment. Stiles ripped his lips from me, panting and staring at me surprised.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He repeated for the third time, hands squeezing at my hips and halting my movements.

“I’m protecting you..” I mumbled, pressing a kiss to his pouted lips. Pulling away from him slightly, I stood from the bed and stumbled over to his bedside table; my trembling hands searched for the protection we needed- the protection I had almost forgotten in the rush of Stiles Stilinski. I stared down into the open drawer; desperate eyes searching in an almost panic. Before calming with my racing heart and laboured breathing as they spotted; and untouched and unopened package, extra large and waiting. Furiously ripping into the box and digging one out; I tore the foil packaging open before stumbling back to Stiles who was waiting on the bed. I pushed back on his chest again, sliding one of my legs over his hips and kneeling above him. I watched as he breathed out a shaky breath, my fingers finding his already leaking cock once more. Pulling the latex from the foil, I rolled it down him almost impatiently. Once he was covered and we were safe, I positioned him between us once more. Rubbing the head of him between my folds and gathering the wetness that was dripping down my thighs and onto his lap. His eyes were wide, and one of his fingers rubbed through the moisture that had leaked from my centre curiously. I held my position, his cock almost pressing into me- as he raised that hand to his face. He rubbed his thumb and fingertip together, as if testing the consistency of the liquid. I giggled slightly and his eyes widened to the point I was worried they’d pop from his face.

“Is this from you? Are you..w-wet?!” He asked amazed, as he watched me grin and nod my head. Before my brain could keep up with his movements; his fingers were pushing his cock out of the way and delving into my folds themselves. They played with the moisture gathered, smoothing it all around my core. Making me moan loudly and embarrassingly. His face was full of wonder as he continued to feel around within me, his fingers coming into contact with the sensitive bud within. The tip of his finger tickled at it inquisitively, rubbing experimentally in circles. I groaned and ground my hips onto his hand eagerly. The sounds of lightsabers colliding in the back ground was drowned out by the sound of his laughter.

“You’re really wet.. Wow.” He mumbled almost to himself, I laughed to, moaning towards the end of it as his fingers picked up their pace. It took all I had to grip onto his wrist and stop his movements; when all I wanted was to sub myself against him until I could feel myself quiver from the pleasure. I breathed out shakily, before pushing his hand away from my centre- I let my other hand pick up his heavy cock once more- positioning him at my entrance. Before surging down on him slowly. A strangled whine came from the beautiful, blissful boy beneath me. My mouth dropped open in a silent moan; a wide ‘O’ shape as he bottomed out within me. I held still, moments pacing as I could feel him pulse inside me; trying to get used to the feeling. I let him settle, before lifting up from him slightly- pushing myself down onto him slowly. Moving at a pace to allow us both the most pleasure, and to allow him to become accommodated with being within someone. Grinding my hips slowly in circles, his hands grasped at my neck- one cupping my jaw and the other pulling on the back of it. Forcing my lips to his in a desperate kiss, and manipulating my body so I was flush against him. Stomach to stomach. Chest to chest. Lips against lips. Kissing furiously as my hips rode him at a leisurely pace. One of his hands slipped from my neck, sliding down my body and squeezing at my naked ass- palming at the fleshy cheek; before sliding back up my body and giving my breast the same treatment. It was then I was forced to move quicker on him, forcing my hips to canter forwards and backwards; pushing us both closer towards the edge.

As our pace increased, our kiss broke. His mouth was wide open and he was groaning uncontrollably, I knew it wouldn’t take too much longer until he would be spent. I pushed my body up, hands resting against his heaving chest; before I pushed my hips as quickly as I could, whines slipping from my mouth to match his. Stiles, lifted his hips and thrust into me.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Before his hips stuttered and he called out loudly, his cock pulsing within me- and he was filling the condom. I continued to ride him through it, trying to prolong that feeling of ecstasy for him. Once he’d finished, his hands gripped at my hips and ceased their slow grinding. He was breathing quickly, his breath fanning against my sweaty skin- cooling it instantly, before heating it up again as his fingers caressed over it. We laid in silence for a few moments, neither of us moving- apart from Stiles connecting out hands and intertwining our fingers mid-air.

“Oh my God!” He murmured out. I smiled down at him, his face was red and covered in sweat; but I didn’t mind, it made him more beautiful to me, I’d just seen him experience euphoria, and it was all because of me. “Oh Jesus.. Th-that was amazing..” He laughed, a grin beaming from his tired face, I just nodded and squeezed his hands. “Wait.. You didn’t y’know.. finish?” Stiles stated, his face morphing from a gorgeous grin to a frown- that almost hurt my heart. I smiled gently and shook my head at him. Stiles’ face was set in a scowl, and he pushed his lips against my own- kissing me heatedly, making my pulse rise quickly. I was too wrapped up in the feeling of his lips almost bruising my own; to notice that he’d let one of my hands drop. And his fingers were working themselves between us. I didn’t know what was happening until I felt his fingers press and circle at the neglected bud with my still slicked folds, I was still wet- and getting wetter by the second as his fingers played with my core. He was experimenting mostly; seeing what would happen if he moved in a certain, figuring out which movement of his fingers would make me moan the loudest. Soon enough under his attentions, I was grinding myself into his hand- he was rubbing me to my end quickly and efficiently. Soon enough my hips were jerking quickly against his hand; quivering as I came. I whined as I felt the shocks running through my body. I breathed heavily into Stile’s neck, coming down from my high- he ran a hand through my sweaty and knotty hair,. “That’s better..” Stiles whispered, before dropping a kiss to my head.  He held my hands again, supporting my weight on his elbows and helped me to roll from his body in shaky knees. When I was situated, he sat up on the bed, with his legs falling over the side. He pulled the filled condom from himself and disposed of it in the bin by his desk.

He picked up his marvel printed boxers and tugged them on, before grabbing onto his red plaid shirt I’d discarded earlier. When he came back to the bed, he helped me to pull the shirt onto my tired but satisfied body, before tugging me back to him. Wrapping his arms around me and snuggling me close to his body- pulling the covers over both of us as we cuddled in silence.

“Thank you.” He whispered against my lips, we settled again. Smiling against his chest- listening to his heart beat which was beginning to slow to a normal pace now.

“I told you I’d save you.” I whispered as I watched him doze into a peaceful sleep, following not too long after him. Cuddled close to his body, with his mouth pressed against my hair. Stiles was safe, and that was all I could ask for

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

All the Right Places

Stiles knows he can’t come until he has at least three loads in him, but Derek feels so good, he can’t help but touch himself as the alpha’s dick hits all the right places.

[AO3]

It was the pace that drove him mad. Derek had Stiles spread across his lap, straddling his hips as he thrust into the boy. His hips rolled back and forth, his length sliding in and out of Stiles’ slick, needy hole.

He was doing it on purpose; going as slowly as he could to tease the boy, to savour the broken cries that escaped Stiles’ lips.

Stiles knew the rules: he wasn’t allowed to come until he had three loads in his ass, but Derek was making this hard. His cock ached, throbbing as it yearned for release.

His lungs burnt for air, shallow gasps drawn pas his lips as his shoulders rose and fell. His throat was raw from screaming.

Derek hadn’t been this gentle the first round; he had pinned Stiles to the floor and rutted until he came, keeping his dick buried deep in the boy’s ass as he climaxed. Then he rolled over on to his back, hoisting Stiles onto his lap and making him spread his legs and lean back on his hands, his ass up in the air as Derek began to roll his hips, thrusting up into him slowly.

Stiles’ head fell back, his eyes fluttering and unfocused as Derek’s dick hit all the right spots. His voice was raspy as he cried out, saying Derek’s name over and over again as if it were a prayer.

Stiles needed more.

Derek thrust up into his ass quickly before drawing out slowly until only the head of his cock was still in the boy’s ass. He thrust again, slamming into Stiles and making the boy’s thighs shake.

Stiles was close. He could feel the tension building in his stomach, his face flushed red and his cock twitching.

Stiles thrust up into him, harder; deeper. Stiles’ whole body shuddered as he gasped for breath.

“Does that feel good?” Derek teased.

Stiles let out a broken whimper, unable to trust his voice.

“I bet you want to come right now, don’t you?” Derek purred, slowly drawing out of Stiles and rolling his hips more gently. He set a slow rhythm, sinking deep into Stiles before pulling out again. “You’ve been such a good boy, I’ll let you break the rules, just this once. You can touch yourself, but if you come, then my third load doesn’t go in your ass. Understand?”

Stiles let out a low hum, shifting his weight onto one hand as he took his own dick in his hand, running his palm up and down the pulsing shaft.

Derek thrusts up into him, hitting a sweet spot and making the boy arch his back. He would have collapsed back against Derek had the alpha not grabbed the boy’s hips to hold him upright.

Stiles didn’t stand a chance, his ass flexed around Derek’s dick as he climaxed, spurts of come spilling over his hand and his abs. Stiles let out a choked breath as Derek reached around, taking the boy’s dick in his hand and working it back and forth until Stiles was spent.

Derek wasn’t far off. He thrust into Stiles’ ass a few more times before grabbing his hips and pulling him down over his dick. Stiles let out a ragged cry as Derek’s length was thrust deep inside of him. The boy’s trembling ass was too much. Derek let out a low growl, his hips bucking upwards slightly as he climaxed, slick come filling Stiles.

Stiles let out a broken whimper, sighing with relief as the man filled his ass.

Derek slowly withdrew from Stiles, making the boy whimper at the loss. He set Stiles down on the bed, letting him lie there as he dug through a drawer to find something. When he returned, he settled between Stiles’ legs, teasing at his entrance with the tip of a dildo.

A ragged moan escaped Stiles’ lips as Derek sank the dildo into his come-slick hole.

“That’ll fill you for the time being,” Derek said, holding a remote up in his hand and making Stiles watch as he turned it on.

Stiles hips bucked, gasping as the wave of pleasure rolled through him.

“Now, stay like that while I clean you up,” Derek instructed. He tossed the remote aside and pushed open Stiles’ legs, pinning the boy’s hips to the bed as he leant over him and ran his tongue up Stiles’ abs.

Stiles let out a soft moan, his face flushed red as Derek looked up through his lashes at the boy. His pale green eyes were black with lust and his glare was predatory as he lapped at the smears of come that covered Stiles’ skin.

He drew back, smirking as he rose to his feet and walked around the edge of the bed.

Stiles let his head hang off the edge of the mattress, following Derek with his eyes.

Derek stopped in front of his face, stroking his dick

Stiles licked his lips, his breath hitching in his throat excitedly.

“Do you want him to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours and dump another load down your throat?” Derek whispered.

Stiles tried to nod, his lips quivering as he looked up at Derek pleadingly.

Derek took a step closer, resting the head of his cock against Stiles lips.

The boy lapped at it eagerly, tasting the lingering salty drops of come. He strained his neck and pressed sloppy kisses down the length of Derek’s cock and gently sucked at the dripping head.

“You really are a little come slut, aren’t you?” Derek chuckled. He caved and gave Stiles what he wanted, bucking his hips forward and thrusting into his throat.

Tears prickled Stiles eyes, but his expression never showed any pain. His reached up behind his head and ran his hands up Derek’s thighs, gently coaxing him closer; a silent plea for more.

Derek rolled his hips, sliding his length into Stiles’ throat before drawing back out and thrusting back into him, a little more violently.

The boy let out a muffled moan, the vibrations rolling down Derek’s shaft.

Derek set his hand on Stiles’ chest, slowly rocking his hips as his dick slid into Stiles’ throat.

Stiles let out a deep moan, the vibrations rolling down his shaft.

Derek bit into his lip, his breath hissing as he drew air through gritted teeth.

Derek rolled his hips, slowly moving his cock in and out of Stiles’ mouth. He felt his length slide down into Stiles’ throat, Stiles sucking his dick and swirling his tongue around the head of Derek’s shaft as he pulled back.

He drew his length out of Stiles’ mouth, letting him breathe.

He panted, puffs of hot air rolling across the tip of Derek’s rigid cock. As his breathing steadied, he craned his neck, his lips brushing against the end Derek’s dick. He gently lapped at the head, the lip of his tongue brushing against Derek’s slit.

The man let out a deep growl.

Stiles opened his mouth wide, letting Derek roll his hips and fuck his face. Stiles couldn’t help but moan as Derek’s rigid length slid into his throat.

Beads of precome dribbled from the head of Derek’s cock and across Stiles’ tongue.

Derek grunted, the warmth of Stiles’ mouth as he sank his shaft into the boy’s throat was unbearable. He pulled back, resting the tip of his cock against Stiles gaping lips as he climaxed. Spurts of come dripped into Stiles’ mouth, others falling against his lips, his chin and across Stiles’ chest.

“That’s a fucking hot look,” he purred.

Stiles craned his neck and licked his lips, waiting until Derek’s orgasm slowed before taking the man’s cock back in his mouth and sucking him until he was spent. He sank down over Derek’s length, tightening his lips as he dragged them back up the man’s cock. He swallowed hard, licking the beads of salty come off his lips before returning his attention to Derek’s dick and cleaning up the mess of come.

Derek drew in a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating smell of Stiles’ scent; the smell of the boy’s come mixed with his. He smirked, watching as Stiles rolled onto his hand and knees, sucking Derek’s dick more eagerly.

Derek slid his hand under the boy’s chin, urging him to draw away from the man’s flaccid cock and look up at the alpha.

Derek smiled at the sight of come dripping down Stiles’ chest, his skin glistening and his eyes misted with lust.

“Do you want to go again, pup?” Derek whispered.

Stiles nodded eagerly.

A playful smirk lifted Derek’s cheeks. “Turn around.”

Stiles did as he was told, turning around and arching his back, presenting his soft ass to Derek.

The man grabbed the remote and switched off the dildo, making Stiles whimper at the loss. Derek eased the dildo back and forth making Stiles whimper. Slowly, he drew it out, setting it aside before positioning himself between Stiles’ legs and lining his length up with Stiles’ hole.

Derek arched over Stiles, his hot breath making the hairs on the back of the boy’s neck rise.

He slammed his hips against Stiles’, burying his thick dick deep inside of Stiles.

The boy threw his head back, crying out with delight.

“Oh, so your mouth still works, huh?” Derek teased. He ran his hand through the boy’s soft locks, gently tugging at his unkempt hair.

Stiles fell back into his grip, letting Derek guide him.

He tilted the boy’s head to the side and brought their mouths together in a mess, passionate kiss.

He rolled his hips, spreading Stiles’ trembling come-slick hole over his length with every movement. He wrapped one arm around the boy’s slender waist, slowly drawing out before bucking his hips and slamming his length into Stiles’ ass again.

Stiles arched his back, a savage moan tearing at his throat. Derek growled in response, their kiss growing more savage.

Derek’s carnal instincts took over as he thrust into the boy’s ass, spurred on by the broken whimpers that escapes Stiles’ lips.

Derek drew back from the kiss, drawing in ragged breaths. He arched over Stiles, his thrusts faster and deeper as he nipped at the pale skin of the curve of Stiles’ neck. He lost himself to pleasure, his hips moving by instinct as he savagely fucked the boy.

Stiles’ moans escalated into one, drawn-out cry.

Derek let out a low growl, shoving at Stiles’ hips and pinning him down against the sheets. He thrust harder, slamming into Stiles’ ass.

Stiles clawed at the sheets, nails scratching at the soft cotton.

Derek pounded his ass, his cock bruising Stiles’ insides and hitting all the right places.

Stiles let out a savage moan as his cock twitched against the sheets. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire. He struggled to draw breath, his eyes rolling back into his head as Derek’s length thrust deep inside of him again and again.

“You don’t come until I do,” Derek growled.

Stiles nodded.

Derek bucked his hips and came, burying his length deep inside of Stiles as his come filled the boy’s ass.

Stiles let out a broken moan at the sensation, the feeling of his alpha buried deep inside of him tipping him over the edge as he came into the sheets.

Derek took a second to catch his breath. He moved his hips back and forth slightly as he rode out the orgasm, his dick pulsing as he dumped another load in the boy’s ass. He let Stiles trembling ass milk his orgasm before he slowly withdrew from Stiles’ ass, watching as Stiles tried so hard to keep all of Derek’s come inside of him.

The boy collapsed against the sheets, struggling to steady his breathing.

Derek arched over him again, pressing a soft kiss to the boy’s shoulder.

“Do you want me to put the dildo back in?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper.

Stiles let out a quiet, approving hum, unable to move.

Derek grabbed the toy from where it had been cast aside, gently easing it back into Stiles ass.

Stiles let out a broken moan, gasping and sputtering as the feeling made his dick pulse.

Derek laid down on the bed beside him, wrapping his arms around the boy and letting Stiles curl up against his chest.

“You really are a little come slut, you know that?” Derek asked teasingly.

Stiles smiled as he nuzzled his face into Derek’s chest, letting the man’s warmth soothe him.

[AO3]

[dragon-temeraire]

I was imagining an interesting scenario - Stiles is a phoenix, drawn to the nemeton like lots of others, but he instinctively wants to use it as a pyre to draw on its power while also being reborn as phoenixes need to do on occasion. Then he meets the territory’s alpha...

I didn’t quite follow this prompt, but I hope you’ll enjoy the fic anyway! This is part one, the next part should be posted within a week. (On AO3)(Part Two)(Part Three)

Stiles is used to moving.

He and his dad have been all over the country, drifting fromplace to place, ever since Stiles’ mother burned away and never came back.

He knows his dad is trying to find somewhere he can becontent, can be settled, because Stiles’ reckless behavior means he needs toregenerate frequently. He doesn’t mind it, even likes the feeling of rebirth,but it makes his dad very anxious.

Sometimes he comes back and finds his dad lingering over theash and hot coals of his previous self, a haunted look on his face.

Stiles knows something has to change.

And not long after his twentieth birthday, something does.

He starts to get a pulling sensation, like a gentle yearningright in the center of his chest. Its call isn’t overwhelming, but it is consistent, and it feels like, if hedoesn’t heed it, it might never stop.

It takes him several days to figure out where the call is coming from, but he eventually manages. Thatnight at dinner, he places a map in front of his dad and points out a town,saying, “I want to go here.”

His dad frowns down at the small letters. “Beacon Hills?” hesays. “Never heard of it.” He gives Stiles a small smile. “I’ll start lookingfor houses tomorrow.”

His dad not only finds a house with an attached workshop, healso finds a job.

“Seems like they have a shortage of deputies at theSheriff’s station,” his dad says. “I contacted some of the ones who quit, andthey said that the job was either too boring, or too weird.” He gives Stiles anamused smile. “Good thing I’m adept at handling both.”

Stiles grins back.

*

Stiles feels light and free the moment they enter BeaconHills, his fire pulsing happily beneath his skin. He’s definitely in the rightplace.

His dad pulls to the curb on their way through town. “Irented you a little storefront,” he says, pointing it out. It is small, crammed between a boutiqueclothing store and a pharmacy, but Stiles immediately loves it. “You can setwhatever hours you want,” he adds as he merges back into traffic.

Stiles takes a brief tour of the house when they get there,and snags an upstairs bedroom, but it’s really the workshop he’s interested in.

It turns out to be perfect,a large open space where absolutely nothing is flammable, so he doesn’t have toconcentrate so hard on perfect control. Just as a test, he sends a lick offlame across the room, and his dad gives him a stern look.

“I already had your forge brought over,” he says, pointedly.

“Yep, I will definitely have that on when I’m working,”Stiles says cheerfully.

He’d started metalworking while in high school, first out ofboredom, then as a lucrative side-job. Now, it’s the only work he does. Hisonline store sells out pretty often, both because he does good work, andbecause Stiles plays up his “secret technique” for getting such fine detailinto his pieces. The reality is that it’s a lot easier to bend and shape moltenmetal when you can touch it with your bare hands.

He has the forge and the protective equipment to keep uppretenses, just in case anyone comes by to see his workshop.

“Now that that’s settled,” his dad says, “I guess we canstart unpacking.”

Stiles groans dramatically, just because he knows it’ll makehis dad laugh.

*

There’s still something pulling at Stiles.

It’s softer now, more subtle, but definitely still there. Heleaves his current batch of rings cooling on his workbench, and drivesaimlessly around town until he realizes the feeling is coming from the woods.

He takes a bumpy dirt track that winds through the trees,driving until he gets tired of hearing his suspension creak, then pulls off tothe side and starts walking.

He has a good sense of direction, never really getting lostno matter where he goes, so he doesn’t pay much attention to his route throughthe forest. Doesn’t pay much attention, that is, until he ends up in a clearingwith a huge, old tree stump.

He walks cautiously closer, feeling the ancient power stillrooted there, but he can also feel—someone had, at some point, corrupted themagic of the tree, leaving the center festering with darkness.

There’s still good in it, though. Stiles runs his fingersover the outer rings of the trunk, and knows for certain. Knows he has to dosomething, too.

He strips off his clothes—he can control his fire enough tokeep from burning his own clothes, but that takes a lot of concentration—andpiles everything off to the side, before letting the flames come to the surfaceand cover his body. He doesn’t let it burn hot enough to turn him to ash; hehas no need to regenerate now. And though there’s the familiar pull, an urge toshift into his true form, Stiles resists that too. He doesn’t need it.

He just frees enough flame to make himself feel powerful,connected to the rest of nature, the same way he feels when he’s heating andshaping metal.

He steps on to the broad stump, and directs his fire downthrough the center, burning out the evil burrowed there. There’s resistance, apush back against the flames, and a sliver of darkness aims unerringly towardhis heart.

It burns to nothing before it can make contact.

When it’s over, Stiles takes a few deep breaths, thencrouches down and touches the burnt wood, making sure none of the corruptionremains.

“That tree is evil,” someone says, sudden and unexpected,and Stiles startles a little.

He turns to find a very stern but very handsome man—no,wait. He catches a flicker of red in the stranger’s eyes, and realizes he’s notjust looking at a werewolf, but an alphawerewolf.

Whose territory he’s probably invaded.

“Not anymore,” Stiles says, stepping back a little so he cansee the blackened hole right through the heart of the tree. He can feel a softwave of magic, like a small sigh of gratitude, wash over him and he smiles.

The werewolf glances down at the cautery, but his gaze isback on Stiles in an instant. “What are you?” he asks sharply.

“You don’t know?” Stiles says, a little taken aback. Hefigured the flames were an obvious giveaway.

He gets a frown in response. “Your clothes smell like human,but you. You don’t smell like anything.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, and lets some of the fire recede from hisface and neck, so the alpha can see him better. He leaves the rest of it,hoping it covers his nudity. He’s never really had to worry about that before,forging alone in his workshop. “I’m a phoenix. My name is Stiles.”

“I’m Derek,” Derek says shortly. “You don’t look like abird.”

Stiles can’t help his snort of laughter. He’s only everrevealed his secret to a few people, but he’s never experienced such anon-reaction. “Well, you don’t look like a wolf, but I still know you are one.”

Derek raises his eyebrows at that, looking surprised, butquickly schools his features again. “How did you do that?” he asks, focusing onthe tree stump, rather than Stiles. “We’ve tried to destroy it several times.”

“Phoenix fire is incorruptible,” Stiles says. “So, I wasable to destroy the dark part of the tree, while leaving the rest intact.”

“I appreciate that,” Derek says warily, then looks pointedlyat Stiles’ flames. “But are you a danger to the rest of the forest?”

Stiles can’t help grinning, though he knows it probablydoesn’t make a good impression. “Phoenixes are guardians of the forests andfields, and maintain balance. I may set a few fires, but here’s the thing,Derek. Fire is only a bad thing when it’s present in the wrong amount. See?” He sends a tongue of flameout to the dead leaves washed up against the trunk of the great tree, and oncethey burn to crumbling ash, calls the fire back to himself.

In the next moment he feels another wave of magic from thestump, and this time he directs toward the burnt ground. When he brings it to Derek’sattention, he’s obviously startled.

“That’s the other thing about fire,” Stiles says, lookingfondly at the bright green shoots pushing up out of the blackness. “No matterhow terrible the devastation, new life always emerges.”

In the place where his mother died, the most beautiful flowers had grown.

“I want to say, not always,”Derek says, sounding hoarse. “But now I realize you are right.”

Stiles doesn’t think they’re talking about the plantsanymore. He’s not sure what they’retalking about, but the fine tremble of Derek’s jaw tells him not to push.

“I believe that you won’t do any harm,” Derek says finally.“But I am the alpha of this territory, so if you plan to spend time in thesewoods, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“I understand,” Stiles says, relieved. He’d hoped Derekwouldn’t try to drive him out.

Derek nods, then disappears back into the trees, as silentas he came.

*

Stiles decides to open the shop only a few days a week. Hedoesn’t have a real sign yet, but he’d painted the front window to say Stilinski’s Metalworks. Underneath, insmaller letters, he’d added CustomJewelry Available.

He hasn’t done any advertising, nor posted any store hours,so he’s surprised he gets customers at all the first day.

The first introduces herself as Lydia, and Stiles findshimself captivated by her red-gold hair as she browses the display cases. Hecan tell she has a core of strength and confidence, along with a passion forknowledge, and after a few minutes of idle conversation, considers asking herout. But for some reason he thinks of Derek, and decides not to.

“I don’t see what I’m looking for,” Lydia says after anextended perusal. “So, I’ll have to have something custom made.”

“My prices are expensive,” he says, less of a warning andmore of a statement of fact.

“That is no issue,” Lydia says easily. “I would like a ringand bracelet set, with a bow and arrow design.”

Stiles nods, pulls a pad of paper from under the counter andslides it her way. “Okay, I just need some contact information. I’ll send yousome sketches and get your approval before I start working.”

Lydia picks up a pen and begins to write. “Do you have atime estimate for when it’ll be done? I want to give it to her for herbirthday.”

“I only have a few other commissions right now,” Stilessays, shrugging. “So, once you’ve decided on a design, it shouldn’t take morethan a few days for me to complete the pieces.”

“Thank you,” Lydia says, and slides the paper back to him.

Stiles gives her a little wave as she heads out the door, thenspends a moment admiring her penmanship before he pulls out his sketchbook andgets to work.

It’s more than an hour before his next customer shows up.

This time, it’s a friendly, kind-looking guy named Scott. Hespends a lot of time admiring everything, leaning over the showcases and askingenthusiastic questions, smiling sunnily when Stiles answers with equal energy.

Eventually though, he sighs and says, a little more subdued,“Your work is beautiful, but I’m afraid I can’t afford any of it.”

Stiles glances at Scott’s face, then at the delicatewristwatch he’s been staring down at. It has a subtle motif of foxes andravens, and Stiles has a feeling he wants to give it to someone special. “Tellyou what—if you give me the names of the best places to eat around here, I’llgive you a discount.” After all, if he plans to stay here, he needs to makeconnections.

Scott beams. “I’ll do you one better. Me and my friends aregetting together tomorrow night, since everyone’s back from college. You’re morethan welcome to join us.”

“I’d like that,” Stiles says. “If you’re sure no one willmind?”

Scott reassures him they won’t, and exchanges numbers withStiles before heading out the door, boxed-up watch held carefully in his hands.

There’s a brief lull, where Stiles gets more sketching done,before three strikingly attractive people make their way inside.

Stiles might not have a lot of abilities as a supernaturalcreature, but he does have the ability to see right to the heart of others, andknow their true nature. These three, he can tell right away, are werewolves.There is some sort of tether, or link, that stretches from them and distantlyto Derek.

“Hi, I’m Erica,” says Erica, flicking a wave of golden hairbehind her. She points over her shoulder. “And that’s Boyd and Isaac.”

Stiles doesn’t think they’re here for pleasantries. “DidDerek send you?”

“No,” says Isaac. “We wanted to see you for ourselves.”

“Derek told us about meeting you in the woods the otherday,” Erica says. “He tried to play it cool, but we could tell he was worried.”

“Worried? About me?” Stiles gestures to himself jokingly.

“Apparently when he met you, you were completely on fire,”Isaac says dryly.

“And if you knew Derek’s history, you’d know just why thatwould,” Boyd says carefully, “concernhim.”

They’re severely tempting him to ask, but Stiles feels likeit’d be better to find out from Derek himself. Though it’s good to know thatDerek has people who care about him.

“So, we just came by to make sure you weren’t a danger,” shesays. She breaks her serious expression after a moment, though, and says with asmirk, “Isaac here thinks he can smell evil.”

“I can,” Isaacsays, then pointedly sniffs the air. “He’s fine,” he says, sounding a littledisappointed.

“Look, I just want to make jewelry and roam around theforest,” Stiles says, raising his hands and hoping he looks harmless. “I haveno nefarious plans. Okay?”

“Okay,” Erica agrees.

She and Boyd give him smiles before they head out the door,but Isaac levels him with an exaggeratedly suspicious look before he followsthem.

To his surprise, Stiles finds himself laughing.

*

He has no doubt that Derek will be checking up on him—evenif Erica, Boyd and Isaac report his lack of evil—so he decides to make it easyon both of them, and heads back to the giant stump.

He grins when he sees that, out of the blackened heart,there now emerges a tall sapling, delicate green leaves just emerging at thetips of its branches. It’s a good sign, evidence that it has truly healed, and itspresence should now bring good-fortune and peace.

Stiles climbs up onto the stump and touches his fingers tothe bark of the sapling, feeling the pure magic flowing through it. Contentedthat there is no remnant of malice, he pulls out his sketchbook and settlesdown to work on Lydia’s commission.

The forest is soothing, nothing but the sound of the birdsand wind rustling through the trees, and Stiles is surprised to find it’s anexcellent place to work.

He’s just finishing up a design for the ring when Derek’svoice says, “You’re back,” and his pencil makes a jagged line across the page.

“Yeah. It’s nice out here,” Stiles says, shrugging.

“It is now,” Dereksays, low, almost like an afterthought. Most of his attention seems to befocused on intently observing Stiles.

“What?” Stiles says, glancing down at himself and then backup. He probably has pencil smudges on his face, or something.

“I hadn’t seen you—” Derek tries, making an aborted handgesture.

“With clothes on?” Stiles finishes, laughing.

“Not on fire,”Derek says irritably. “You look,” and there’s a rather long pause before hesays, “normal.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says wryly. “I’m not tending to the foresttoday, hence my regular appearance.”

Derek looks like he might say something, eyes flickingbetween the sketchbook and Stiles’ face, but instead he just nods and turns,heading away through the trees.

And though he hadn’t exactly expected Derek to stay, Stilesfinds himself feeling a little disappointed.

*

Scott and his friends are meeting the diner, which isconveniently just a block away from Stiles’ shop. He walks over, enjoying thepleasant night, but hesitates for a moment when he gets there, his old anxietypricking at him.

It passes in a moment, though, and he pushes through thedoor and makes his way over to their table. Most of the people he of coursedoesn’t recognize, but he’s surprised to see Lydia there.

“Good to see you again, Stiles,” she says, and introducesthe girl next to her as Allison.

To his eyes, she almost seems haunted, as though she’sexperienced great betrayal and tragedy, and is still coming to terms with it.Stiles only manages a small smile before he has to look away.

After he’s met everyone they all place their orders, andStiles lets the jokes and teasing about college classes—and collegeshenanigans—wash over him, enjoying the atmosphere. Several people make an effortinclude him in the conversation, and he’s happy to join in, but he’s especiallypleased when he manages to make someone laugh.

After they’ve had dessert, they head to the kind of arcadethat has something for everyone. The group splits up between the bumper carsand laser tag, and Stiles is tempted to join them. But he knows that when hegets competitive he tends to get…overheated.Instead, he heads for the pinball machines, which are safely deserted.

Both Scott and Lydia stop by to make sure he’s not feelingleft out, and he eventually gives in and plays a few rounds of Skee-ball withthem. By the end of the night everyone’s congregated around him, talking andlaughing, and being surrounded by them makes Stiles feel normal, accepted.

Like he could fit in here.

Like he could belong here.

*

The next time Stiles goes back to the forest, he takes a fewblocks of metal with him. Lydia’s decided on a design, so it’s time for him topractice. He won’t make the real thing out here—he does better in his workshop,where he doesn’t have to keep strict control over his fire and can properlycool the pieces—but he wants to see Derek again, hence his now-familiar trek tothe stump.

He unrolls his toolkit of hardened steel first, running hisfingers over each implement to ensure they’re in good condition. He’d forgedthem himself in his early high school years, when he’d realized he couldn’t getthe detail he wanted using just his hands.

He rolls up his sleeves, and then cups a piece of silver inhis hands, concentrating all his fire there. Small tendrils of flame creep downhis arms, seeking the freedom they’re used to, but Stiles just huffs out alaugh and pushes them back.

He has the molten metal wrapped around his finger—for anestimate of size—and is just beginning to etch details into it when Derekappears. He doesn’t interrupt Stiles, but watches for a moment before coming tosit nearby.

Stiles tries not to show his surprise.

He also can’t keep quiet under Derek’s watchful gaze, so hebegins to talk about what he’s doing. Why the type of silver was chosen, andthe temperature it needs to be heated to. He explains that he’s practicing adesign for a client, and that he’ll probably have to do it several times beforehe gets it right.

Luckily, if he makes a mistake, he can just melt it down andstart again.

“It doesn’t hurt you at all?” Derek asks curiously, whenStiles’ rambling pauses.

“It looks like it would, doesn’t it?” Stiles asks, smiling. “There’sno pain at all. My dad doesn’t like to watch me forge because it freaks himout. He does, however, appreciate the high-quality set of kitchen knives I madehim.”

“People always love handmade gifts,” Derek says, with a hintof a smirk.

Stiles laughs. “True enough,” he says. “And it works out, becausethough I do forge things for myself, I like making things for other people best.”

He’s finished with the ring, so he covers it with his palmto draw out as much heat as he can, then sets it down by his tools. He’ll needto polish it before he can see how well it turned out. The bracelet is next,and he begins to heat and stretch another piece of silver. He’s focusing on thetask, making sure his technique is right, and doesn’t notice the silence untilDerek’s voice suddenly fills it.

He talks briefly about the preserve and how werewolves havealways roamed these woods, then moves to the huge stump they’re sitting on,called the nemeton. Derek tells him that it has drawn in many mythicalcreatures, many of them dangerous.

Stiles understands, then, why he was looked at with suspicion.

Derek seems like he might go on, but then lifts his headsuddenly, obviously hearing something Stiles can’t.

“My pack is expecting me,” he says. “I have to go.”

“See you,” Stiles says as he walks away, and then, out of curiosity,takes a look at Derek’s heart.

He’d caught a glimpse when he’d first met Derek in thewoods, had seen the strength built through adversity, and of course, hadnoticed his alpha status. But he’s shocked to see that it all rests on afoundation of ash, and there, right at the center of him, is an unfathomablesense of loss. He recoils at how deeply it is rooted, and is glad Derek can’tsee his reaction.

What had happened to him?

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @NikoleStilinski24!

Dear @nikolestilinski24,

You asked for Online Dating and Misunderstandings or Alive Hale Family Christmas with kids. I chose to do Alive Hale Family Christmas and Kids since I absolutely suck at writing the kind of witty dialogues you need to create a credible online persona lol. I don’t know if this is as fun as you wanted it to be but I hope you like it! Merry Christmas!

*****

5 times Stiles started a Christmas tradition with the Hales + 1 time he didn’t have to

One: Movie and Hot Chocolate

Stiles had known about the Hales. It was impossible not to when you lived in Beacon Hills. Cora had been his classmate, Laura had babysitted him a few times when his mother was ill, Daniel had been a the top scorer at his favourite game at the arcade and 18 year old Derek Hale had been the one that made 12 year old Stiles realise he liked boys too but this was the first time he had seen so many of them together.

A few months back Derek had returned from New York after completing his Masters and opened a bookstore. Stiles had not thought Derek could get any more attractive but the sweater wearing, tea drinking, bespectacled Derek that had greeted him had been way more attractive than the kind but cocky jock young Stiles had had a crush on. A few deliriously happy months and some wonderful dates later and Stiles was attending his first Hale family Christmas.

It was kind of intimidating to see Derek’s immediate family, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and what seemed like dozens of kids under one roof but the house was warm and smelled like gingerbread cookies and he could feel Derek's arms around him as they cuddled on the couch.

Derek kissed him on top of his head and whispered, “You okay?”

“I’m great. So how long have you been doing this for?”

“Oh forever. Granma Hale started it when Mom was born. I think the gingerbread cookies started when Cora was born though.”

“Dad and I watch Die Hard on Christmas.”

Stiles knew Derek’s stance on Die Hard not being a Christmas movie and enjoyed the way his nose scrunched. “We can do that tomorrow if you want.” Derek said finally.

“No need to get so excited about it honey.”

Derek kissed him again, “I don’t care what we watch as long as it’s together”

Cora who had been silent until now despite sitting next to them gave them a dirty look and said, “Not all of us are lucky enough to have someone to cuddle with this Christmas. Maybe you should shut up before I barf all over you.”

Stiles snickered and cuddled closer to Derek. He was feeling pretty lucky tonight. It wasn’t something he had done before but he was sure he’d enjoy watching It’s a wonderful life and drinking hot chocolate every Christmas Eve with the Hales.

Two: Full Moon Run

The Hale house was a flurry of activity when Stiles got there. He waved at Talia who was standing outside directing the people putting decorations all over the lawn.

“Hey Talia” Stiles said and hugged her. She kissed his cheek and smiled at him fondly.

“Hi honey. I’m glad you’re here. Laura and Derek are trying to bake a cake.”

“Together?” Stiles said suddenly feeling a little scared. Laura and Derek while decent bakers on their own, were an absolute disaster when they tried to do it together. Both of them had a pretty mean competitive streak and were never satisfied with each other’s process while baking.

Talia shuddered a little. “Yes. James is keeping a watch but maybe you should be there too.”

“I will. Dad is coming over to help out with the grill after his shift.”

“That’s great. I haven’t seen the Sheriff in so long!”

Stiles walked into the kitchen and could feel how tense the atmosphere was. James, Laura’s husband winked at him and mimed slicing his neck. Stiles stifled a chuckle and went and wrapped his arms around Derek. “Happy Christmas Full Moon” He said and kissed Derek’s cheek.

He could feel the tension drain out of Derek as he laughed and gave himself an imaginary pat on the back. “It’s not called that.”

“Why not? The only reason you have a party along with a run this full moon is because it’s Christmas time. That’s the perfect name” Stiles said exaggeratedly.

“Whatever you say babe. Laura, I’m not baking anymore. I need to show Stiles around.”

“At least come up with a believable lie DerBear. Stiles has been coming to the house for years, I’m pretty sure he knows where everything is.” Laura said as she made a face at Derek.

“Okay then. I missed my fiancé because he’s been working a lot the past few days and I’d like to go and make out with him now.”

“Fiancé” Stiles sighed, “I don’t think I’m getting tired of hearing that anytime soon.”

“Wait till I start calling you husband.” Derek said and kissed him. Stiles kissed him back and moved his fingers to Derek’s hair.

“Hey! Take that out of my kitchen. You’re contaminating the cake.” Laura shouted.

Stiles laughed and followed Derek out into the yard. Hours later they were lying next to the bonfire watching the kids run around. “I could get used to this” Stiles said as he ran his fingers through Derek who was currently a wolf. Derek woofed and licked his cheek.

Three: Our own tree

One of the things Stiles loved most about Derek was how he could always surprise Stiles. If anyone had told him that Derek Hale who hated crowds and preferred staying at home and watching a movie instead of going out for dinner would navigate him expertly through the crowds in Target two weeks before Christmas he never would have believed them.

They’d gotten married this summer and giving presents together or signing Stilinski-Hale on cards was a novelty he didn’t want to get used to anytime soon. Derek was holding his hand and scanning the aisles for items from the gift list they’d made together. Stiles was pretty sure he had a sappy smile on his face as he looked at his husband but he couldn’t help himself.

It took him a moment to realise they weren’t walking anymore and he saw that Derek was standing in front of an aisle full of ornaments.

“Hey” Stiles said as he nudged Derek. “I thought we weren’t getting a tree of our own”

“Maybe we should.” Derek looked a little nervous when he turned towards him. “I know we go to my parents house for the holidays but I want one with you. A tree we can add ornaments to every year. Something to decorate with the kids.”

“Kids? Getting a little too excited aren’t you Mr. Hale?” Stiles said teasingly.

“Mr. Stilinski-Hale” Derek corrected him and pinched his nose. “So? What do you think? Do you want to?”

“I think I hit the lottery when I walked into that book store years ago.” He said smiling softly. “Let’s get the tree and the ornaments but I’d like some more time to keep you to myself. Maybe we’ll have a kid when we come shopping in a few years”

“Maybe we will” Derek said and kissed him.

Four: Matching Pajamas

The past two years had been one of the hardest of Stiles life. He had always known he wanted kids but with the high probability of transferring his mom’s disease genetically he had also been pretty sure he would adopt. With Derek being a werewolf and looking forward to teaching his kids all the wolfy things he knew it was a surprise to everyone but the two of them when it took them no time to decide to go for surrogacy using Derek’s sperm.

Finding a woman in the know who would keep the kid safe was a different game altogether but after months of searching they’d found a werewolf from Satomi’s pack who was willing to be their surrogate. The months that followed that decision had been exhilarating and terrifying and the only reason Stiles hadn’t had a nervous breakdown was because Talia had been with them every step of the way.

As Stiles sat next to the Christmas Tree with six month old Jasper Hale in his arms he knew all of it had been worth it. Jasper had been born with a strong set of lungs and a dense sets of eyebrows that left no doubt as to who his father was.

He felt more than saw Derek sit next to him and leaned into his husband of 5 years. “John came to the store today.”

“Did he need something?”

“No, he left a package. Said he saw in the store last weekend and thought of us.”

Stiles wiggled excitedly, “Open it then!”

Derek laughed and started opening the package carefully. Stiles knew from past experiences that no amount of needling would get him to just tear the wrapper off so he settled for showing his impatience through his body language.

“Matching pajamas?” He said when he saw the opened box.

“There’s one for Jasper too” Derek said and then started laughing, “Here look at this”. There were two pajama sets and a onesie. All three of them had bear motifs over them with a patch saying ‘Bear Bottom’ on the butt.

“This looks nice. I wonder if we can find any wolf themed ones.”

“We’ll look for some next year.” Derek said and hugged him and Jasper tightly.

Five: Missing loved ones

For as long as he could remember Stiles had been reading the Polar Express every Christmas Eve. It happened when his dad was working nights and only his mom was there to read to him, when his mom died and his dad made sure he took some time out every 24th to read it with him, when he started dating Derek and they spent an hour cuddled together before bed as Stiles read to him and it kept happening even when Jasper was born.

Stiles was pretty sure he cried every time he read it ever since his mom had died but neither his Dad or Derek called him out on it and until now Jasper had been too young to notice how bittersweet it was to continue something even when the one who started it was not there.

This was their first Christmas with Sophie, a ten year old werewolf that had come into the Hale territory when on the run from hunters. Her pack was dead and her mother had asked her to hide and run as fought the hunters alone to buy her some time. It had taken months for her to feel safe but Stiles was glad to see her coming out of her shell recently. It was good for Jasper too who had recently turned six.

They’d had dinner and were sitting in the lounge when Jasper came in running with the book and thrust it in Stiles hand. “Read it, Papa.” He demanded with the trademark Hale pout on his face.

Stiles knew his heart had done something weird when his three wolves looked at him with concerned expressions. He opened the book and was about to start reading when Sophie said. “You have to read the message at the beginning too.”

Stiles felt Derek squeeze his hand and gave him a small smile. “Dear Mischief, You’re the most magical thing that happened to me. Remember to keep believing if you want to hear the bells. Love, Mama.”

By the time he finished the book Stiles could feel the tears running down his face. “It’s nice that your mommy left you a story to read every year”, he heard Sophie say and felt like crying all over again. He cleared his throat and put his arms around Sophie, “Why don’t you tell me a story about your mommy?”

“And then you’ll tell me about yours? And Daddy too.”

“You’ve met my mom honey. But I’ll tell you about my Dad.” Derek said as he ran his fingers through Jasper’s hair.

“I don’t have a mommy. But I have two daddies so it’s okay.” Jasper said suddenly. They had talked to him about different types of families before he’d started school, Stiles was glad the lesson was sticking.

“I’ll start. So you know grandma’s name was Claudia. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…”

“Better than Lydia Martin?” Derek smiled teasingly and raised his eyebrow.

Stiles gasped and then laughed. “Of course. But don’t tell her that! Now shh, I’m talking.”

And every year since just after Polar Express they talk about the people they wish they were sharing Christmas with.

+ (plus) One time he didn’t have to

Stiles woke up feeling overheated. He was pretty sure the sun hadn’t risen and his face was smushed into Derek’s chest. Opening his eyes he saw Sean lying next to Derek and Jasper and Sophie cuddled next to Stiles. All of them were fast asleep.

He had no idea when it had started but for the past few years he had been waking up with his whole family next to him on the bed. Derek believed it was because they were werewolves but Stiles was pretty sure it started because Sophie was quite attached to them and where she went, her brothers followed.

It felt nice, Stiles decided as he walked to the bathroom. With two of the pups being teenagers now, tempers were high more often than not in the house but it was a comfort knowing the kids would be there on Christmas mornings even if they had been arguing the night before. At least they would be until Sophie went to college in two years, something Stiles didn’t want to think about right now.

He freshened up and stared at his family. They had been pretty content with 2 kids but one day Isaac who worked for child services had found a werepup who had been left outside the fire station and a few weeks and favours later, Sean Stilinski-Hale was the newest member of their family.

Derek who now a bit of grey in his beard and hair still made Stiles just as giddy as he had when he was a young werewolf running around playing basketball. Some days Stiles couldn’t believe what a wonderful life this man had given him. He placed a soft kiss on the pups and Derek and climbed back into bed. Derek pulled him closer and kissed his forehead.

“If I didn’t know you I’d think the way you were staring at us was creepy.” Derek said in a deep sleepy voice that sent tingles down Stiles’ spine.

“I’m feeling very content right now so I won’t react to that comment” Stiles said and heard his voice catch a little.

Derek immediately looked concerned. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m great” Stiles said. “I couldn’t be better. Merry Christmas baby.”

Derek smiled and kissed him deeply. “Merry Christmas. Love you.

[welshwoman1988]

Happy birthday, Une!!!

This is a slightly belated birthday present for my darling @acollectionofsterek, also known as @unelore, AKA Une! Sorry, this is late, sweetie!

(Also, this is only the first chapter, because as always, I can’t write a short story to save my life!)

On we go!

Stiles grits his teeth against the pain throbbing in his leg, Lydia’s grasp on his shoulder the only thing keeping him in the here and now as she pushes him forward despite the fact that her own legs are weak and barely supporting her...

He doesn’t know how long they had been imprisoned, how long they had been tortured and played with, but he knows that if either of them goes down now, they aren’t getting back up.

Behind them, Stiles can make out the crowing of the Hunters as a flash of light skips over them before swinging back like the light on a magician at the crest of his latest trick.

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

Stiles echoes Lydia’s grip, pulling her toward him as they stumble through the undergrowth, the sudden snow making their feet slip and slide as they tumble down on embarkment after the other. It’s just another sign of how weak they are that they’re even making tracks this way, and it’s only a matter of time before the Hunters-

Stiles shakes his head and cuts off that thought before it can take root. They’re going to be fine, they only have to stay ahead of them for a few more miles and then they’ll be forced to ask the local law enforcement to play on their land.

And that’s if these are the ones that follow the rules, the Code... The fact that they were imprisoned and tortured despite having done nothing wrong doesn’t really fill Stiles with hope, though. They’ll probably just drive right past the border with nary a care in the world, finished with the little ‘hunt’ they decided on since everything else was so boring now...

Lydia slips, almost drops, and Stiles pulls himself from the morbid turn that his thoughts have taken to steady and support her. It also helps him get his head on straight; he can’t let himself fall into despair now. He needs to help her, strengthen and assist her.

His blood-sister and last bit of family he has left.

Just a few more miles, just a few more...

A sudden howl cuts through the night, making Stiles chuckle darkly at the thought that if the Hunters don't get them, they'll be too weak to keep from being torn apart from feral dogs.

"Stiles!" Lydia hisses, letting him know that his thoughts have pulled him away for too long. "Stiles, listen."

Another howl floats through the air and Stiles makes to ask what, exactly, Lydia wanted him to hear when the sudden silence answers that question for him:

The Hunters have stopped.

Laughing, moving, even the light that was highlighting where Stiles and Lydia were going is gone.

Like it never was to begin with...

Lydia's hands are like talons in his arm now, her breathing harsh and sharp in his ear as one howl suddenly transforms into two, to three, to a symphony...

Only to cease, an unnatural quiet falling over the woods as the creatures that were making the howls step forward to reveal themselves.

Wolves. Big, beautiful, majestic wolves. With a shine to their eyes that let Stiles know these are just simple beasts...

They slip from the trees like shadows, floating over the ground in a way that Stiles remembers and envies, even as he tries not to give any of them his back... A feat that requires quite a bit of skill as their number seems to multiply each time he turns around.

Fuck.

After a while, one of them apparently decides that it doesn’t want to wait for whatever signal that they’re all waiting for and darts for Lydia, teeth bared in a false mockery of a smile.

Stiles barely has time to move, but Lydia has one last bit of strength in her and claws across the wolf’s snout before it even comes close, making it hit the ground with a yelp.

The rest of the wolves make rumbling noises at this, whether they are laughing at the wolf or gearing up to follow it’s lead, Stiles doesn’t know; he’s too busy watching as Lydia looks at the blood on her fingertips consideringly, stick one in her mouth to suck the blood off before making a face and spitting it out.

Stiles is once more in awe of her, both at the insult and the power of will it took to do that. Even now, he fights the urge to lick up the traces of viscera she’s wiping off in the snow...

His attention is captured by a low rumble echoing through the clearing; this, apparently, is the signal the wolves were waiting for, as they all tense up as soon as they hear it and one last form emerges from the treeline.

It’s another wolf, of course, a midnight black that almost swallows him up in the darkness. If not for their advanced eyesight, Stiles was sure that they wouldn’t see it, and can only stare at it prowling past the other wolves like a king in a court.

A pair of glowing red eyes a moment later shows that this is these wolves’ king. Their Alpha, at least.

Stiles tries not to react when, between one step and the other, the wolf transforms into a man with ebony hair as dark as his fur and the same lean body, steam seems to rise from his body with every step he takes.

The sharp “Stiles!” that Lydia hisses in his ear tells him that he wasn’t very successful and he also mentally shakes his head sharply in an effort to get his thoughts in order. Now really isn’t the best time to be appreciative of the other man’s form...

A man who is either uncaring or unconcerned with the cold as he comes to a stop before them and snaps, “I am Derek Hale, Alpha of these lands. Who are you and why have you brought Hunters to my door?”

Stiles swallows hard, fighting down the need to feed for a little while longer as he tries on his most winning smile.

“Actually, that’s a bit of a funny story...”