the look in stiles eyes

It’s been about a week of driving on the road, and Stiles gets to his place and drops his things off. The rest of his stuff will be delivered in about another week. 

Stiles stands in the stillness of his tiny apartment and closes his eyes, takes in the quiet, a quiet he hasn’t heard and felt in a long time, when his phone dings.

Stiles opens his eyes, sees it’s text from Scott asking if he made it by the time he said he would. Stiles answered he made it, and then shuts his phone down, and proceeds to lay down on all the blankets he brought with him - his bed won’t be there for a few more days, at least - and sleep.

It’s night when he wakes up, and the street lights are shining into his apartment where he lay in the almost bare living room. Stiles turns on his phone, and this time his heart skips a beat - and Stiles doesn’t quite know why - when he sees the text he’d been expecting from Derek:

Have you made it? Do you want to meet up? 

It was sent an hour ago. Stiles replies back, saying he did and he would, but since it’s night time, they could meet tomorrow?

But Derek replies back a few minutes later that he wouldn’t might meeting up that night. It’s only 7PM, and so Stiles agrees and they agree to meet at a coffee shop a few blocks from where Stiles lives - Derek has been living in D.C. for a few months now, and ever since Stiles told Derek where he would be living, Derek made a point to get to know the area around it. Stiles found that oddly sweet, but he would never tell Derek that. 

Stiles’ heart is beating wildly as he leaves, locking his door behind him. He hasn’t seen Derek in over a year now. They’ve talked over the year, actually they’d talked quite a lot in the past few months, especially, but Stiles hadn’t been face to face with Derek in well over a year. 

Stiles feels and equal measure of excitement and nerves. He feels almost jumpy as he heads down the stairs in his apartment building, and then out into the warm summer night D.C. air. 

He texts Derek that he’s on his way, and Derek texts back that he’s already there, waiting outside. 

Stiles gulps and licks his lips, and walks faster, pocketing his phone.

Stiles is away from the only home he’s known for 18 years. But he feels oddly free. He misses Scott, his dad, everyone like crazy, but he also feels less…heavy. Less like he was drowning. Stiles still looked around him surreptitiously, not able to shake off the habit from almost two and a half years of danger and destruction happening to and around him, but the air is quiet, people barely spare him a glance. 

It feels wonderful.

Stiles is able to breathe

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. 

When he rounds the corner to the coffee shop, he freezes, his inhale sharp when he sees Derek standing outside, and then it feels like his heart trips over itself when Derek hears him and turns towards him, and they lock eyes. 

Derek looks good. He looks as relaxed as Stiles felt. Derek was still in the tight jeans that Stiles remembered him wearing all the time (and damn, they always made Stiles stare a little longer than he should have) but his shirt looked soft and comfortable, and it was a light purple color that made Derek look absolutely…amazing. 

And he wasn’t wearing his signature leather jacket. He wasn’t standing with his arms over his chest. They were at his sides, just hanging, relaxed. He also wasn’t scowling. He was grinning. At Stiles.

And Stiles found himself grinning back. He let out a shocked laugh, and then he was walking fast toward Derek, who started walking toward him too. 

Stiles sped up the last ten or so feet, and then Stiles was practically jumping into Derek’s awaiting arms, and Derek gave a small “oof” as if Stiles, fragile human that he was, was able to knock the breath out of Derek. 

“Sorry,” Stiles murmured. 

But he felt Derek shake his head and wrap Stiles up firmly in his arms, and Stiles breathed out softly, tightening his arms around Derek’s shoulders and resting his cheek against Derek’s.

“I missed you,” Stiles whispered, surprised he let that slip out. But he did nothing to take the words back. 

“I missed you, too,” Derek said, and Stiles shivered. He and Derek had mostly texted over the past year, and the last time they had talked on the phone had been months ago. Stiles had missed his soft, beautiful voice. It was like honey to Stiles’ ears.

Two and a half years. That’s how long Stiles had basically lived in hell. 

But now….now, Stiles was getting out of it. With Derek, who actually picked Stiles up enough that Stiles was then on his tippy toes, somehow bringing Stiles closer in his arms, and Stiles huffed out a laugh. 

“Derek-”

“Shh, just enjoy it,” Derek murmured. 

“Can’t imagine the Derek I knew saying that,” Stiles whispered. Even at the end, before Derek left, when he was in such a good place, he hadn’t quite been like this. So happy. So relaxed. So ready to hug someone. And hug them closely, for that matter. 

“Yeah, well…some time away helps,” Derek murmured, and Stiles felt his heart beating faster when he felt Derek brush his lips lightly against Stiles’ neck. 

“Good thing I’m getting some time away, then,” Stiles murmured. And then after a long moment, “with you,” Stiles said. 

He felt Derek inhale sharply, and then the arms around him tighten. But it didn’t feel restrictive. It felt amazingly comforting. Stiles felt warm, safe. Relaxed. And maybe even a little bit happy.

“I’m glad you’re getting time away, too. With me.”

Stiles smiled, buried his smile against Derek’s shoulder, and then decided to hold on to Derek just a little longer. 

He didn’t feel the need to be anywhere else. 

darling, I know you’ve been feeling down lately, so I wrote this really quick for you. I’m not sure what you had in mind, but I went to a 100 % unicorns place, so I hope this makes you smile a little.


A shadow falls across Stiles’ worksheet and he looks up to see Lydia, mouth pursed, staring down at him. She says, “What do you know about unicorns?”

“About as much as the average eleven year old boy,” he says, which is: not much. Horse-like, pointy horn, something to do with virgins.

Of course, he goes home and finds out everything he can about them immediately. Both because Lydia asked, and because now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Lydia has forgotten all about their conversation by the time he’s ready to dazzle her with his knowledge, so alas, his mad unicorn skillz lie dormant for years, until all the shit with the werewolves.

*

Stiles is cat-napping in a spill of sun when all his warmth is blocked—he makes an irritated sound and opens his eyes to find Derek looming over him, frowning.  Stiles kicks out a foot and rolls over onto his side in the grass.

Derek says, “What do you know about unicorns?”

Stiles yawns and says, “A surprising amount for a teenage boy.”

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inell  asked:

“I need a favor, and not the sexual kind.” Stiles/Derek

Nonsexual Favors

Derek woke to his phone vibrating on his nightstand. He rolled over and unlocked it when he saw he had two texts from Stiles that had both come in within the last two minutes. 

It wasn’t unusual for Stiles to text Derek at all hours of the morning, what was unusual was the lack of sexual content in the text.

Stiles: I need a favor,
Stiles: And not the sexual kind.

Derek was tempted to just roll over and go back to bed, but then he had a vision of Stiles laying in some ally, bleeding out because he was attacked by some monster, and he hit the call button.

“Oh thank god,” Stiles said as soon as he picked up, “My bike got stolen and I’m nowhere near a Metro stop.”

“Where are you?” Derek asked, already getting out of bed and pulling on his pants. It was 1:30 in the morning, there was no way he was letting Stiles wander around D.C. by himself that late. 

He and Stiles had been doing this, thing, whatever it was, since they ran into each other in D.C. almost two years prior. Stiles had grown into himself nicely and though he was still an asshole, Derek knew him well enough now to appreciate it.

“I’m in Alexandria,” Stiles breathed out, his voice sounded a little less strained now, “I’ll send you a pin with my location.”

Derek jogged out of his apartment, well it was actually a brownstone that he had bought when he moved to D.C. He had redone the basement so it was a full, though small, apartment that he could rent out. 

Not that he needed the money, he had plenty from his inheritance, but he kind of liked not having to live off of it. He loved everything about living in D.C., from the diversity to his job at an environmental non profit. 

When Stiles had walked back into his life it had felt like fate, they had run into each other at GW. Derek was working on his masters and Stiles was getting his degree in criminal psychology, on the fast track to the FBI. 

They had picked up right where they left off, snapping at each other and defending each other whenever someone else said a bad word about the other. Things escalated quickly, within a month they were fucking in Derek’s new Camaro. 

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36 Questions

Stiles/Derek, T, 8K words, POV Stiles, Alpha Derek, Future Fic, Canon Divergence, First Kiss (AO3)

“No.”

Erica whirls around to look at Stiles, her eyes big and pleading, but he just shrugs. “Don’t look at me. I mean, I said yes.”

No,” Derek says again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Derek!” Erica looks about three seconds from ripping Derek’s throat out, her eyes glowing gold and everything, but he seems completely unfazed as he leans one hip against the kitchen island. “Come on, please, I really need this for my paper. At least let me explain.”

“Yeah, Der,” Stiles taunts. “At least let the poor girl explain.”

Derek glares at him, but Stiles just smirks back, thoroughly unapologetic. He’s a little pissed, actually—Erica said she needed a favor from them, but as soon as she mentioned that it involved talking to Stiles, Derek immediately shut her down. Stiles agreed to help her right off the bat, of course, because he’s actually a good friend, but Derek is apparently not feeling so charitable.

“So I’m doing my senior psych thesis on friendships,” Erica says, not-so-accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs as she turns to face Stiles. “How they develop, how intimacy is fostered, stuff like that.”

“That’s cool,” Stiles says agreeably. “What’s our part?”

“Well, I can’t really tell you the point because that would influence the results. But it’s a set of 36 questions that you have to ask each other.”

“Just the two of us?” Derek chimes in, finally, and Stiles sighs.

“Okay, dude,” he says, making a face, “could you try not to look quite so offended? Like, my ego’s pretty strong, but come on, man.”

Derek has the decency to look a little chagrined. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“Well, I’ll do it,” Stiles says, giving Erica a wide grin. If Derek really wants to back out of this, Stiles certainly isn’t gonna make it easy for him. They both turn to look at him, and he drops his head with a little groan.

“Fine,” he spits out.

“Great!” Erica says, clapping her hands. “I already paid for your dinner, it should be here in 10 minutes. I’ll leave you guys alone.”

“Wait, right now?” Derek asks, and Stiles barely manages to hold in a laugh at the look of sheer panic on his face.

“Yep,” she says. She digs in her bag and produces two stacks of index cards. “Do not read ahead on the questions, I mean it. Alternate asking them, starting with Stiles, and you both have to answer all the questions. No exceptions.” 

The corners of Derek’s mouth are pulled down, but he nods as he takes his stack from Erica. “Fine. And then what?”

“And then I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow about it,” she says, already backing toward the door. “Have fun!”

Read the rest on AO3!

Long Angsty Sterek Fics

All at least 20k words long (by request)

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn’t expect and aren’t sure they approve of….

By Any Other Name by entanglednow

He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he’s on the run with. But he’s pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

Permanent Fixture by linksofmemories

Derek is Scott’s older brother. Stiles is Scott’s best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

Don’t Speak by fatale

The Alpha pack has systematically attacked Stiles and his friends for months, testing their strengths and weaknesses. When one of the Alphas goes after Stiles, he awakens in the hospital and realizes that something’s wrong. Very wrong. All sounds seem to hurt him, he can’t understand what anyone is saying, and when he tries to speak, it’s gibberish. How is he supposed to deal with the fact that he’s lost the ability to communicate with his dad and his friends?

Without his ability to talk, his sarcasm, and his wit, what does Stiles even have left? Enter Derek, the only one who seems to make it better.

Enemy Lines by qhuinn (tekla)

This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.

Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.

Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.

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anonymous asked:

So, first off, hi there! Second... what kind of things do you think nerd!Derek would do to try and get jock!Stiles' attention? Or, what kind of cutesy things do you think jock!Stiles would attempt to make nerd!Derek notice him and laugh. (Spoiler alert, Derek already does notice him, but shhhh!)

So I combined these two prompts, I hope you guys don’t mind! Have some more nerd!Derek from me ^^

(Also, my eternal thanks to both @pale-silver-comb and @halesheart for telling me my writing isn’t horseshit and I should continue)

Title: You Hold My Attention (Without Even Trying)

“Oh my god, again?”

Scott frowns. “This is seriously getting out of hand.”

“Ugh, I know,” Stiles says as he bends down to pick up the flowers – tulips today – that dropped out of his locker when he opened it. “I mean, it was cute at first, but after the fifth time you get wet flowers smacked into your face, it kind of gets old.”

Speaking of wet flowers, they’re soaking through his shirt where he was cradling them under his arm. He holds them out in front of him, scrunching his face when they drip onto his sneakers. He’s not exaggerating when he says he’s kind of tired of them. Don’t get him wrong, he still appreciates the fact that someone takes the time out of their day to buy him flowers, but it’s just a bit – well – too much.

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all for love || stiles stilinski

word count: 4174

warnings: none

prompt: collab with @sarcasticallystilinski

author’s note: happy lacrosse week everyone! this is my first part of lacrosse week with hay! we are very proud of this one and we hope you have as much fun reading as we did writing!

masterlist

coming soon

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Sterek + "it's you, it's always been you" thanks! :)

Stiles woke with a start, his heart racing. He wasn’t sure what had woken him, but he was surprised that Derek hadn’t put a calming hand on his chest and told him to go back to sleep. He rolled over to face Derek only to find an empty spot that was still warm to the touch. 

He strained his ears but didn’t hear anything in the bathroom so he hauled himself out of bed to go find him. It was weird for Derek to leave without saying anything and Stiles wanted to make sure he hadn’t had a nightmare. 

There wasn’t any light coming from under any of the other bedrooms, so he was extra quiet so not to wake the rest of the sleeping pack. They all had to work in the morning and Stiles didn’t want to face Erica’s wrath if she didn’t get her full 8 hours of sleep. 

The light in the kitchen was on and Stiles walked toward it, expecting to see Derek drinking a cup of tea or hot cocoa. Instead he found Derek digging the cookie dough chunks out of Stiles’ pint of Ben and Jerry’s half baked. 

“It’s you, it’s always been you!” Stiles whisper yelled from the doorway. 

Derek dropped the spoon that had been in his mouth, eyes wide as he looked at Stiles, the pint of ice cream still in his guilty hand. 

“You said that Isaac was eating my ice cream. You lied,” Stiles said, pointing an accusing finger at Derek, “I started stealing his Lucky Charms Derek, I was getting revenge on the wrong werewolf.”

Derek slowly put the lid back on the ice cream and put it back in the freezer before speaking, “In my defense, you’re very protective of your ice cream and it was kind of funny watching you plot revenge on Isaac.”

“Well now I’m going to have to get revenge on you,” Stiles said with a sigh, “We’re married dude, why didn’t you just tell me you were the one eating it.”

“You can do magic and you’re kind of scary,” Derek said with a smile. Stiles knew that Derek was buttering him up, but it was working. 

“I expect you to replace all the pints you’ve eaten,” Stiles said, “And from now on stop picking the cookie dough piece out, that’s just evil.”

“Okay,” Derek said, stepping toward Stiles and pulling him into a hug.

“And I’m still going to extract revenge on you,” Stiles said, but he hugged Derek back, enjoying the warmth of his body, “And you owe Isaac at least 4 boxed of Lucky Charms.”

“Fair,” Derek said, kissing Stiles quiet. He tasted like cookie dough which should have been nice but instead it served to remind Stiles that he had married an ice cream thief. 

“Sleep with one eye open Hale,” Stiles said as they walked back to their room.

“Around you I always do,” Derek said with a laugh as he flopped onto the bed. 

Derek didn’t sleep with one eye open. The next morning both of his eyebrows had been dyed bright pink. Stiles refused to change them back for two days. It was a fair punishment for Derek’s crimes. 

2

“When?,“ the wolf raised an eyebrow “What is this bullshit Stiles! is Scott part of this?“ He stood up to look at the teen in the eye which was weird. Stiles was taller than him. he looked older. and his clothes. they were ancient.

“Stiles?,” Stiles said his eyes almost glowed golden as a grin grew on his face “that is his name isn’t it? The one who bears my features in your time?“ he circled around the wolf to inspect him closer.

“What do you mean my time?,” Derek growled but the man didn’t even flinch, instead he pulled at the wolf’s sleeves to inspect the material “Stiles!”

“i am not your friend wolf, maybe my ancestors are but currently we are no more than strangers” Sti-, the man stated as he pulled a flask out of his leather bag.

“what are you talking ab-” Derek was not able to finish the sentence because the flask flew in his direction, breaking at his feet and releasing some kind of red mist. making the Wolf dizzy and sleepy.

“I’ll explain it all to you wolf,” a shadow loomed over him as he hit the ground “but first, i must make sure you are not dangerous,” his eyelids felt heavy and the world fell dark “sleep well Wolf




@stilesandderek a gift for the best gift in the world! am sorry am so late Rue i hope u had a great birthday and that this year will be great to u please accept this sorcerer!Stiles and time traveler!Derek.

Fight (Fuck) Me! [Stiles x Reader]

A/N: just a little heads up, Theo’s a complete dick in this one. Also, if u guys have any ideas for stuff plz let me know.


Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Theo x Reader


Warning: abusive relationships, asshole Theo, smut (female fingering, oral - male receiving, the deed etc)


Summary: You and Stiles aren’t the best of friends, but you know he’s a pretty decent guy in the end.


***


“Are you fucking serious?” You yell out in shock and hear Stilinski irritable ‘Shut it!’ from halfway across the house. You can’t be bothered with how you’re dressed when you stomp over to him, holding out your bottle of moisturizer.


“Stilinski!” You shout and Stiles groans loudly. He’s lounging on the living room couch playing Xbox and dressed in a tight white shirt with some black jeans.


“What are you bitching about now?” He asks, not bothering to look away from his game. Your mouth drops open in shock at his lack of response and you stand with your arms crossed.


“I’m talking about this, you assfuck!” You scream, throwing your now ruined bottle at him. Stiles finally looks away from his game when the sticky, half open bottle hits him square in the chest. He holds it away from himself with two fingers.


“The fuck?” He asks, looking up at you. You stare him down, seething with anger with your arms crossed under your breasts.


“You!” You accuse. “You did this! And your gonna repay me for it. Do you have any idea how much that shit costs?”


You and Stiles have been living together for about three weeks now. Your dad and the Sheriff are close friends and you needed a place to stay while your dad was out of town on business. Immediately, he sent you to Beacon Hills, where you would attend Beacon High, and unfortunately, have to live with the Sheriff and his asshole son.


Only, that asshole son was a total fucking babe.


A total fucking babe that was staring at you with his mouth agape.


“What?” You snap angrily. It is only then that it occurs to you what exactly you look like. Your hair and parts of your body are dripping wet, having just walked out of the shower moments earlier, and the only thing covering your modesty is your hot pink Victoria’s Secret bra and thong, which you were wearing for a date tonight.


Stiles continues to stare at you, and makes a considerable effort to maintain eye contact. You huff, which you know makes your chest flair out. “Take a good look, Stilinski, coz that’s the closest you’re ever gonna get.”


With those final words, you grab the moisturizer bottle from his hands and storm back into the shower, temper flaring. You can feel his eyes on your ass all the way.


When you’re in the bathroom, you lock the door and make a quick decision to look extra fuckable tonight. You’re sure that Theo will appreciate your efforts. And if you slip back into the shower and spend thirty extra minutes with your fingers in your pussy, thinking of the hungry look in Stiles’ eyes moments earlier then it’s nobody’s business.


****


When you do finally emerge from the bathroom, you can’t help but feel a little proud. You’re wearing a tight white top that dips into a considerably low V with a red mini skirt that falls halfway down your thighs. Your hair is done in a way that you know makes you look gorgeous and your makeup, having taken about an hour to do, is fucking on point.


You walk to your temporary room and rummage through the closet the Sheriff gave you until you find a pair of brown, heeled boots. Slipping them on, you walk to the mirror and admire the way they elongate your legs.


“Hey, you done or not coz there’s-”


The voice stops short and you turn to see Stiles standing in your doorway, mouth agape. He’s staring at you as though he can’t believe what’s in front of him, and you take the opportunity to reach down to grab your bag and get your perfume, ass in the air.


“What is it?” You ask, flipping your hair to the side so that you can spray your neck. From the corner of your eye, you can see the way Stiles follows the movement, licking his lips. For a second, you think he might just pounce and attack you right there.


It’s difficult to ignore the wave of desire that courses through you at the thought.


Stiles finally snaps out of his daze when you place the perfume bottle down loudly. He clears his throat awkwardly and pretends that he hasn’t been outright staring. “Your, um- Your date’s here.”


You nod and grab your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you notice that Stiles is still leaning against the door frame. “Yes?” You ask, albeit impatiently.


“How long’ve you been with this guy?” He asks, going for casual but it’s a near miss. You roll your eyes.


“None of your business, dad,” You reply pointedly, making a move to push past him. Stiles is quicker and stronger, so he easily stops you with two firm hands on your shoulders.


“I’m serious, (Y/N),” When he speaks you realise that he actually is. “Who is this guy to you? Do you trust him?”


There’s a long moment when you truly don’t know what to do. For the most of it, your conversations with Stiles have been clipped and short, or irritated and in the form of shouting contests. You haven’t heard him speak this sincerely before.


“Why?” You ask because you honest to God want to know. Stiles looks contemplative, as though he’s not sure whether or not to tell you something. The moment a decision crosses his face, a loud honk of a car is heard outside.


“Just-” Stiles sighs, and you notice that his hands are still on your shoulders. “Just be careful, alright? If there’s one person in the world that I don’t trust, it’s Theo Raeken.”


After a small nod, Stiles moves out of the way and you brush past him, walking out the door to where Theo is waiting in his car. You barely realise what’s going on around you, your mind still reeling from Stiles’ sudden attitude change.


“Do I smell?”


You jump at the sound of the voice. Looking to your left, you see Theo smiling at you gently. The car’s stopped and you realise that you’ve spent the entire ride to the restaurant in silence.


“I’m sorry?” Because there’s no way you heard that right.


“Do I smell?” He asks again and you shake your head. “Maybe it’s the outfit. A bit much?”


You smile and take a second to look at what he’s wearing. Theo cleans up nice. He’s in a blue button down with a pair of black slacks and some Oxfords on his feet. He looks really good.


“You’re incredibly hot.” You say with a smirk and Theo barks out a laugh. He steps out of the car and moves to your side, opening the door for you before you can’t protest.


“You’re pretty hot yourself, babe,” He whispers in your ear as you stand, one hand smacking your ass before he closes the door.


Your eyes dance around the restaurant and suddenly you feel really bad for the car ride. Mistaking your guilt, Theo walks you towards the table with a hand on the small of your waist, murmuring in your ear: “Don’t worry. The manager owes me a favour.”


He pulls your chair out for you and you sit, feeling a slight blush form on your neck. The table is set for two, in the balcony with no others. It’s completely private. There’s a rose in the centre and the classical music from inside filters through the air.


“This is really sweet.” You tell him when he takes his place in front of you. He smiles bashfully.


“Well, we needed some way to celebrate out one month anniversary.” You grin but can’t help but feel extremely guilty, thinking about how you’d spent the morning.


“Hey, what’s your deal with Stiles?” The words are out of your mouth before you can’t stop them. The smile on Theo’s face falls and immediately you regret it.


“My deal?” He asks, and immediately you know that you’ve crosses a line. In your four weeks of dating, you quickly learned when and when not to question Theo, and when to immediately back away before he gets mad. “What gives you the idea I have anything to do with him?”


“Nothing.” You say quickly, picking up a menu. “He just seemed to recognize you as all. Must’ve been my imagination.”


“Yeah, you really need to put a handle on that.” He murmurs, picking up his menu as well. You pointedly ignore the comment and take far longer to read the menu than you normally would have.


“Good evening.” The waiter, a guy who’s probably around 19 with brown eyes and combed back blonde hair, greets gently. “My name is Evan and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear out specials?”


You were about to say yes, because you really didn’t know what to order, when Theo spoke for you. “That won’t be necessary.” He said. “I’ll have the Steak platter, extra gravey. Babe?”


“Chicken Burger with fries.” You reply, because that seems simple enough. Just as Evan is about to write it down, Theo interrupts.


“You sure?” He asks, his voice casual but still implicit. He reaches under the table and tugs slightly at your love handles, and you go red. “Make it a Greek salad.”


Evan gives you a look, and you can see that the man is barely containing his disgust at your boyfriends actions. “Greek salad.” You confirm. Evan gives a slight nod, though he looks slightly troubled, before picking up the menus.


“Anything to drink?”


“Coke.” Theo replies distractedly, looking down at his phone.


“Ice tea.” You say, and Theo raises a brow. “Diet.” You quickly add, and are rewarded when Theo shoots you a dazzling smile which you can’t help but return, albeit hesitantly.


Evan nods and gives a beaming, fake smile. “Anything else?”


“No.” Theo says, but Evan doesn’t move. You look up and see that he’s waiting for your answer.


“No, thank you.” You smile, and Evan returns it. It looks a little more genuine, if a bit pitying and you quickly look away before Theo gets mad. Evan tell you two that the meal should take only 10 minutes, 20 at the most, before disappearing back into the hotel.


“I don’t like the way that guy was looking at you.” Theo says, and you clench your vista in your lap to help keep your composure. “Got no right to be looking at my girl like that.”


You can’t help but smile. Despite everything, Theo is very possessive of you, and it honestly makes you feel like he genuinely cares about losing you. It’s also the reason why you could never leave him. He made that pretty clear.


“I love you.” You say gently, and Theo smiles, reaching a hand across the table and taking yours.


“I love you too.” And his voice is too sincere to doubt. “I should ask for another waiter.”


“That’s-” You pause. “Isn’t that a little unnecessary?” You can see Theo’s eyes darken and fear tinges at your fingertips. “I mean, we came out here to have a good time. We don’t need any drama.”


“Course you’d say that.” He says, eyes still dark. You want to pull your hand away from his, but he’s got a tight grip on your wrists and it fucking *hurts*. “Bet you’re loving all this attention they’re giving you. The waiter, the Stilinski boy. You’re a little slut who’ll open her legs for anyone who asks nicely enough. Babe, you need to realise something. They only want you because they know they can’t have you. They’re just trying to challenge the Alpha Male - me, and I won’t let them think I’m weak just because you can’t keep your tits to yourself. Understood?”


You look down to hide the tears streaming over your cheeks. No reply comes from your mouth, because you know that it’ll be choked and wet and Theo absolutely hates seeing you cry.


“Answer me!” He slams your joint hands on the table and you wince. You look up and try to contain yourself when you speak.


“I understand.” Your voice is barely above a whisper and Theo smiles.


“Good.” He says. “Now wipe your face. You look like shit when you cry.”


***

You try your damnest not to make a sound as you open the front door with shaky hands. Despite your best efforts, you and Theo still got into a fight, and he showed you as much mercy as he had all previous nights.


The fight (which had been about Stiles, of all things) hadn’t lasted very long. You weren’t very edger to fight back, your guilt from your earlier interactions with the guy still weighing down heavily upon your chest. Theo had misread it, and seemed to think there was something going on between you and Stiles. Words were yelled and punches were thrown but you walked out of it okay. Safe for a mean looking bruise on you jaw, which would blossom into a deep purple mark tomorrow, and a few cuts and scrapes, you were untouched.


You knew, however, that despite this being one of the better nights, your injuries would not go unnoticed by Stiles or the Sheriff, which was why you had waited until all the lights were out to try and get in.


Without much thought, too tired and in too much pain, you push the door open and make a b-line for the kitchen. Immediately, you pull out a bag of something frozen and stick it on your cheek, rummaging through for some ice cream.


“What the fuck?”


You jump at the sound of the voice. Almost immediately, your hands fly to your face as a defence mechanism, but it isn’t necessary. It’s just Stiles.


Stiles, standing there in nothing but some black shorts with a baseball bat in his hands.


“Umm.” You say stupidly because the sight of Stiles’ abs has rendered you as such. Stiles drops the bat and walks towards you, looking concerned.


“What are you doing?” He asks as he walks to you, eyes brimming with worry. “It’s three in the fucking morning.”


“Ice cream.” You say lamely, but Stiles isn’t listening. His eyes are glued to the packed of frozen peas in your hand that you’re trying to hold against your jaw and wrists at the same time.


“What happened?” He asks, slowly pulling the bag of peas away. You prepare yourself for the look of disgust on his face when he sees the injury, so it’s very unexpected when he looks even more concerned.


“I fell.” You lie easy. Stiles doesn’t look away from your injuries, now choosing to inspect your wrists, which are bruised all round and is bleeding in a small area.


“I’m not stupid.” He says, and you’re shocked by the sincerity in his voice. “I know Theo did this to you. I know he’s the reason you’ve been coming home with bruises all month long. What I don’t know is why you haven’t said anything about it.”


You wince as Stiles prods your jaw gently. He looks contemplative, but eventually settled for sitting your down at the kitchen table. “Wait.” He says, then runs off. You resist the urge to scream.


This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one could know what Theo was doing because they could never understand. All they would do is judge you for not leaving, and give you pitying looks all the while thinking that you must’ve done something to deserve it. No one understood, least of all Stiles.


“Here.” You look up to see Stiles, hand stretched out with a bucket of ice. Confusion clouds your features and Stiles gives you a gentle smile. He puts the bucket down on the table and brings your right hand towards it, pushing it in.


It’s extremely cold but also soothing. You sigh gently as your wrist is finally given the attention it deserves. You’re about to thank Stiles before he leaves, only to find that he’s not leaving at all. He’s kneeling next to you and opening what looks to be a first aid kit.


“That’s not-” You try but Stiles silences you with a look.


“It’ll help.” He says. “I promise.”


The older boy opens a jar of sorts and the smell of herbs drifts to the air. He dips two fingers into the salve and gently brings them to your face, applying it to the spot with the utmost caution.


“It stinks.” He says. “But it’ll reduce the swelling. Give me your wrists.”


You oblige deftly, raising your bruised wrists from the tank of melting ice to where Stiles is kneeling half-naked next to you. He drys your wrists off with a kitchen towel before applying a rather thick layer of the salve onto your wrist, massaging it gently.


“Better?” He asks in a whisper as he stands, after five minutes of comfortable silence. Suddenly, you are pulled back into the real world and are faced with the truth. You had just shared this moment with Stiles, with the guy you had screamed that you hated at your boyfriend before he punched you in the face. Theo would be pissed, so fucking pissed, but you would deal with that tomorrow.


“Much.” You say, and make a move to stand, but you’re unsteady. You’re feet wobble in your brown heels and Stiles quickly wraps his arms around you, stabilizing your body before you fell.


“How bout something to eat?” He asks, “I mean, you could go to bed like this and all, but for some reason I don’t think you’ll wake up in the morning.”


“Bet you’d love that.” You say, feeling some of your wit returning. Stiles smiles.


“Nah.” He says. “Then who’s gonna be there to falsely accuse me of stealing moisturizer?” You laugh loudly and Stiles smiles. “Um, there’s a 24 hour pizza place a couple of minutes away. We could go there.” He suggest and you shrug, realizing how close you are. You pull back.


“Hey man, it’s your town.” You say and Stiles nods.


“Eddie’s it is, then.” The two of you stand but you hesitate, looking down at your outfit.


“Give me one second.” You say and run up the stairs into your bedroom. For a moment, you wonder if you should dress up but ultimately decide that it’s not worth it. You swap out your skirt and top for a pair of sweats and a baggie t-shirts, and your heels for your beat up converse. You grab your phone as you walk down, pulling your hair from it’s tangles and into a messy bun.


“I look like shit but who’s gonna see?” You ask when you walk back into the kitchen. Stiles looks at you laughs.


“You look beautiful.” He says, and grabs his car keys. You eyes widen.


“Aren’t you gonna put something on?” You ask as Stiles stand in front of you, still wearing nothing but a pair of black shorts. He shrugs.


“It’s hot.” He says simply, walking out the door. When you just stay right where you are with your mouth agape, he pops back inside. “You coming or what?”


“I’m gonna regret this,” You say as you follow him out the door, noticing that he left behind his baseball bat. As you walk out into the front yard, you see Stiles in his blue Jeep, looking far too excited for a midnight drive for pizza. “Yeah, I’m definitely gonna regret this.”


The ride to Eddie’s, as Stiles had called the place, is filled with stupid small talk and light arguments. (You think that Batman could win in a fight against Iron Man. Stiles strongly disagrees) The two of you listen to crappy music and Stiles sings along at the top of his voice, which you realize is actually pretty good, and you join him. Soon, the two of you are laughing after having belted out the final notes to Smashmouth’s 'I’m a Believer’ in the Eddie’s parking lot, while people look at you like you’re mad.


“Oh my God,” You say breathlessly, wiping the tears from your eyes as you clutch your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a worse butchering of a Shrek song in my life!”


Stiles laughs, loud and free, and it’s like music to your ears. “I think that guy in the ugly Mini would agree with that.” He says though a new burst of laughter and you look to your right to see a very disgruntled looking man in a piss green mini looking at the Jeep and it’s occupants like it was something he stepped in.


“Fuck off!” You scream through the window and throw the finger at him. The guy, despite probably bring in his mid twenties, looks positively insulted and immediately get in his car and leaves. Stiles bursts out laughing.


“You know,” he says. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch at the start we could’ve been friends much sooner.” He smirks when he says it, and you can feel Stiles’ eyes raking over your form.


“Friends?” You ask, keeping a sultry edge to your voice. “Is that what we are?”


Stiles smirks, and you take the moment to fully appreciate him. His skin is stretched taught over his muscles and you love the way the dim light of the parking lot reflects off of them, making him look all kinds of delicious. His whiskey eyes are dark with lust, and you notice the way his pupils are huge and a vein sticks out slightly from his neck. You want to lick it.


“Let’s go.” You say and promptly step out of the car, taking a deep breath. You really shouldn’t, not after Stiles had seen you so emotional and vulnerable, but you can’t help it. He’s a fucking babe, and you want nothing more than for him to pound you like there’s no tomorrow.


Stiles follows out after you and the two of you walk into the place together. You know you must look like a pair if drunk lovers, with your faces flushed and your attire being what it was, but right now you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.


He leads the way, taking you to a booth that’s on the edge in the centre of the Pizzeria. The place is mostly empty, safe for an elderly woman who’s out with her husband, giggling like teenagers. You grin at them. Stiles walks around like he knows the place well, and doesn’t even pick up a menus when he sits down.


A lovely middle aged woman walks up to you two a few minutes later, and you’ve decided on your order. The woman, Delores as her name tag tells, smiles broadly when she approaches.


“What’ll it be, sweetie?” She asks, sounding cheerful. Stiles turns to her, offended, and for a second you think he’s gonna yell before a broad grin swipes across the woman’s face.


“Sweetie?” He asks, “Lola I’m offended. Whatever happened to hottest ass in town?” You snort at that and the woman gives you a wink.


“Don’t worry babe. You’re still the sweetest piece of ass I know.” She says, laughing. “I just didn’t want your girlfriend over here to get jealous.” Stiles looks at you, grinning and licking his lips, looking all kinds of sexy and adorable.


“I’m not the jealous type.” You say and he laughs at that. The waitress, Lola as Stiles had so lovely called her, grins broadly. You and Stiles stare at each other from across the table, each challenging the other to look away first.


“Now now,” Lola interrupts. “No eye fucking just yet. Lemme first get you order.” You look away abruptly, going red and Lola laughs good-naturedly. “Okay, so usual for you?” She asks and Stiles nods. “And you, sweetie?”


“Give me the greasiest, most carb filled pizza that you guys make.” You say, looking at Stiles and wondering for a fleeting moment if he’ll object or look at you with disgust. Instead, he just raises an impressed eyebrow.


Lola laughs. “Your girl’s a keeper.” She says to Stiles.


“Damn right she is.” He replies, softer, looking deep into your eyes. There’s a moment where you know that you have a choice. You could correct him now, you could stop this by simply looking away or saying no, but you don’t.


“Best believe it.” You murmur, but by the way Stiles smirks slightly, you know he’s heard you. Lola offers you both two large milkshakes, she says it’s on the house but Stiles will pay for it anyway, and walks off, looking entirely too satisfied.


“I used to come here when I was little.” Stiles says, looking around the place. “My dad would drop me off here coz there wasn’t anyone at home and I was too small to stay by myself. Lola would babysit me, stuff me with junk food and all kinds of shit an eight year old wasn’t supposed to be eating. She’s practically family.”


You nod, smiling slightly. “She seems nice.” You say, then think again. “Wait, she seems really nice. Why is it that she likes you again?”


Stiles scoffs, offended. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly likeable, thank you very much.”


You smirk. “Yeah, that’s why it took me a whole month to warm up to you.”


“No, no, see that’s different.” He’s smiling, oh so softly and it makes your insides flutter. “See, I had a plan with you. It was all set to schedule. If everything goes on track, you’ll be falling in love with me by the first day of summer.”


“Is that right now?” You asks, sitting up a little straighter. Stiles smirked slightly, and you know that he can see down your cleavage. “How’s that working out for you?”


He bites down on his plump lip before licking over it with his tongue. You want nothing more than to jump across the table and bite said tongue, but you refrain from doing so. “Great.” He says, leaning his forearms on the table. Suddenly, his face is right in front of yours and you can see the lust in his eyes. “In fact, I think tonight might be the night.”


“Oh really?” You ask, sounding disbelieving but the husk in your tone gives you away. “What makes you think that?”


Suddenly, Stiles is leaning over the table and pulling you in close, so that his mouth is just under your ear. “Because,” he says in a whispered rasp, “I’m doing this and you aren’t stopping me.” He sticks his tongue out and licks at the shell of your ear. You shudder, leaning forward as Stiles takes the lobe between his lips and sucks it gently. He trials his wet lips upwards and nibbles slightly at the top, and your hand reaches out holding on to his shoulder.


“Now, now,”


You jump back at the sudden voice and your heart pounds in your chest. Looking up, you see Lola staring at you with a watchful eye, but a smirk is playing at her lips. “This place is strictly PG. Understood?”


Stiles’ ears go slightly red, but his nipples are taught from your actions. You’re sure he’s sporting a bit of a boner. “Yes, ma'am.” He mumbles, thanking Lola when she places two large pizzas on the table.


The woman walks away, giving you an over exaggerated wink behind Stiles’ back and you smile slightly at her. “It’s a shame.” You say, pulling back a slice. “Now you have to walk outta here with a tent in your pants.”


Stiles gives you a look that says 'that was totally inappropriate but you’re too fucking hot for me to care’ as he too takes his first slice of pizza. You don’t know what he’s eating, but he licks sauce off his lips and all you can think about is licking it off his abs.


The rest dinner (or early breakfast) is spent mostly in silence, but you can’t help but look up every now and then. Stiles is staring at you with a fierce look in his eyes and it makes you want to jump his bones right there and then.


When he pays, the sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. You can’t help but think of all those times where you were so mad and frustrated at him and wanted nothing more than to have him fuck you senseless.


Afterwards, you’re driving in the Jeep when you can’t take it any more. Stiles isn’t helping, looking unfairly sexy with nothing but a pair of shorts to cover his modesty, and brown, hunter eyes. When he pulls the car to a stop, you place a hand of his thigh.


“Yes?” He asks, smirking slightly. You just shrug, as if you don’t know what he’s thinking. Stiles doesn’t say anything as he presses down on the gas, eyes focused on the road.


Slowly, painstakingly so, your hand moves higher and higher. You can hear Stiles breath hitch when your nails scratch gently over the bulge that has formed in his pants, and you consider giving him what he wants, but realize it’s much more fun to tease. Your hands only graze over his covered cock before you move further up, dragging the smooth surface of your fingernails over his exposed abs.


Stiles outright moans when you run your fingertips over the muscles, and you see the way he gripped the steering wheels with white knuckles. *My turn,* you think as you unbuckle your seat belt and move forward.


With a hand still toying gentle with Stiles’ abs and happy trail, you shift closer and press your lips to a spot just under his ear. Stiles’ breath hitches in his throat and he stiffly changes gears. “What are you doing?” He asks, his voice full of lust.


“Giving you a taste of your own medicine.” Your voice is feather light and your lips brush teasingly over his ear as you speak. Stiles groans softly, and you take it as an okay. You mimick his earlier actions, licking wetly over the shell of his ear before biting down gently, enough to make the car swerve slightly. “Careful, babe.” You say, your voice sulty. You lick over the bitten spot again, blowing cool air over it and Stiles moans.


“Oh, fuck it.” He says, and suddenly he’s pulling over and parking the car on the side of the road. You take the opportunity, swinging your legs over so that you’re straddling his lap, unbuckling his safety belt.


His hands go to your hips when you begin to kiss down his neck. Stiles’ skin tastes like salt and vanilla and you suck down on it like a vacuum, determined to leave your mark. He lets you do as you please, something you’d never got from Theo, and tilts his head back to allow you more room.


You go left until you find that vein you’d seen earlier. It’s protruding loudly against his neck now, and fuck if it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. You press your tongue wide on it and lick from bottom to top, only stopping to nibble slightly on Stiles’ jaw.


His breath hitches, and he hesitates only a moment before taking control and crashing his lips to yours. He tastes like chocolate milkshake, you think absently as his lips devour your own and you wrap your arms around his neck. They feel amazingly soft and delicate, yet at the same time wild and demanding. You love every second of it.


His tongue pushes into your mouth and it’s all teeth and lips after that. The wet muscle strokes against your mouth expertly and you moan into him. Stiles smirks against your lips, forcing his tongue further down your throat until you’re sure there isn’t a place in your mouth that his tongue hasn’t touched. Unfortunately, the need for oxygen becomes to great to ignore and you pull away, breathing heavy.


“The things you do to me, baby.” He says, leaning his forehead against your own. You grind down on him, and are pleased to find that he’s hard and aching. Stiles moans at the touch and pulls you in for another kiss, his tongue shooting into your mouth before your lips have even touched.


His hands move slowly as they travel under your shirt and pull it up over your head. He throws it behind somewhere, but you can hardly give a fuck with Stiles’ eyes watching you like that. You’d opted to go braless when you went to change, and now with Stiles looking like a kid on Christmas, you were glad for it.


He leans down and quickly takes one nipple into his mouth, the other hand expertly cupping and toying with the other. Your hands move from his neck to his hair and you tug harshly at the strands when Stiles starts to suck noisily at your tits, making the sweetest of sounds. When he takes your nipple between his teeth and pulls back so your tit stretches out, you moan so loudly you have to stop yourself.


He gives the other breast the same treatment as his hands move downwards and toy with the waistband of your sweats. His skin is like lighting against your own and and your arch into him, loving it.


“You okay with this?” He asks, pulling away from you and looking up with the utmost sincerity. Despite the lust in his eyes, you know that if you ask him to, he’ll stop right here and now. It warms your heart, but right now you need to be fucked.


“Definitely.” You say and Stiles smirks. He pulls your pants and panties down in one go and immediately stuffs two fingers into your pussy, pumping wildly. He has to hold you tight at the small of your back to stop your from falling over with the intensity of his movements. You moan hotly and pull his face up, crashing your lips together and the car is filled with sweet clenching noises.


“You’re so wet for me.” He mumbles against you, sounding so utterly fucked out and sexy that you can’t help but moan again. You grind yourself against his bulge and Stiles moans loudly.


The hand at your back is gone and Stiles curles his fingers inside of your pussy, just as a his other hands’ thumb presses down hard on your clit. You come with a shout, clenching down on his fingers which are still moving rapidly inside of you. Your over sensitive nub is rubbed at again and you feel jolts of electricity shoot through.


Eventually you have to stop his hands as the pleasure becomes too much. He pulls his fingers out of you as you calm down and you look up, seeing your come on his digits.


Then, he does the most absurd thing. He sticks his fingers into his mouth and wipes them clean, looking you dead in the eye and smirking at your open mouth. His tongue swirls around the digits and he smirks through it, pulling them out clean.


“Fuck,” you say, then make a quick decision. Stiles isn’t expecting it when you suddenly drop to your knees and pull his shorts down, his errection springing up in front of your face. The pedals are digging into your back but you don’t care.


You eyes widened and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but you know you can take the full thing. His thick cock is slightly veiny, and looks so damn tempting. You can’t help yourself when you immediately lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip.


Stiles moans loudly was you suckle his tip, hands automatically moving to your hair and pulling it out of its bun, only to then tangle his fingers in it. His nails dig into your scalp and you moan at the feeling, loving the way he forces you deeper and deeper.


You pull away and lick one long stripe from base to tip. He stops you from going back down. “Stick your tongue out, babe.” You do as you’re told, rogue hanging from your mouth. You moan loudly when Stiles slaps his dick on your wet tongue hard, holding your head in place with one hand. You open your mouth wider, loving the feel. “Oh, you like that don’t you?”


He forces you back down on his cock and you love how dominant he’s being. He guides your head non too gently along his member and you bob up and down, loving the taste of his skin and salty precum on your tongue. Then, his dick hits the back of your throat and you tighten around him. Stiles moans loudly, pulling you off.


He reaches down and fishes into the pockets of his shorts for his wallet. Fumbling only briefly, he pulls out a silver foiled packet and throws the wallet aside carelessly. You take the packet from his hands, just as he’s about to open it.


Looking into his eyes, you tear the packet open with your teeth and Stiles eyes widen. You smirk and roll the condom down his length and Stiles watches you with something akin to awe.


With one hand on your hip and the other on his cock, Stiles’ teases your entrance with his tip, rubbing it against your sensitive clit as you stand on your knees above him, legs spread wide. You moan as jolts of electricity shoot up your spine, but Stiles continues to watch you, not giving in.


“Please, Stiles.” You beg. The teenager smirks.


“Whatever you say, Princess.” Suddenly he slams into you in one thrust and you moan loudly against him. The thrusts up quickly, his dick slamming in and out of you at a brutal pace.


“My pretty little princess,” he whispers in your ear. “You love it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” His hands move up your body and squeeze at your tits. “I bet you’ve been fantasizing about this for days. Thinking about what it would feel like to have my cock in you.”


“Yeah. Oh God yes.” You moan out desperately, nails raking down his back so hard, you’re sure it’ll leave marks. Stiles smirks.


“Tell me.” He says and you moan as he thrusts in deep, hitting that perfect spit inside of you.


“I get myself off to the thought of you fucking me.” You moan, fingers sliding into his hair. “I wanted you so badly. I thought of you when he fucked me. I knew you were better, bigger, could make me moan and come in ways he never could.” Stiles moans loudly and slams harshly into you. “I’ve thought about it all month. The first day I saw you, I wanted to get on my knees and blow you. Wanted to have your cum dripping down my face and tits. Wanted you to fuck me until yours is the only name I remember.”


“And now?” He breathes against you. “Now what do you want?”


“I want to come with you inside of me.” You say. “I wanna clench around your dick and make you lose control. Wanna through you over the edge and go down with you.”


Stiles moans loudly and reaches between your bodies, pressing down hand on your clit once more. Again, you come immediately, back arching, clenching hard around him as he thrusts wildly into you.


“I’m almost there, baby.” He moans, pulling your face forward and kissing you hard. It occurs to you that what your tasting is your own juices on Stiles’ lips and you moan against him.


“Come on,” you taunt. “Come for me, baby.” It takes two more thrusts before he pushes into you hard, spilling into the condom and dropping down on the car seat. The two of you stay like that for a moment, his dick softening inside of you.


Stiles pulls out and you move, going back into the passenger seat. Your pussy is raw from his fucking and you don’t really care how you look with your legs spread wide as cold air brushes over your centre. Stiles pulls out the condom and ties it up, throwing it out of the window.


“That’s nasty.” You tell him. He looks at you and laughs.


“You’re one to judge.” You flush red at that. Stiles laughs openly. “Do you really get off to the thought of me?”


You look at him and smirk. “All the fucking time.”

phantomavenger  asked:

Prompt #11 :)

I loved doing this one. Here’s #11: “If I die I’m going to haunt your ass.”


“You’re the worst, like the actual worst!”

Derek huffed beside him, “if you don’t shut up I’ll leave without you.”

Stiles paused, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock at the threat. He didn’t sense any joke behind it. Instead he went back to his silent freak out as he did his best to ignore the undead groans from the other side of the door.

Zombies. Freaking zombies. As if Beacon Hills couldn’t get any worse. This time if people were bitten they wouldn’t turn into were-somethings. They’d be zombies; rotten, gnarly, undead flesh craving things. Of course Stiles had played his fair share of online games with his friends to fight off creatures, like zombies, but the real thing was much more terrifying. They smelled terrible, their skin looked horrendous especially when it fell off in chunks, and for the love of God the noises were things of nightmares.

Sick pained groans that were hollow and void of any sort of intelligence.

Just hungry.

Very hungry actually since they tried to make him Stilinski a-la-mode about five minutes ago and Derek a Hale sunday.

“This is your plan? Hide in a storage closet?” Stiles asked and flailed just crazily enough to knock over a paint can.

It clattered to the floor with a harsh sound followed by a long silence. Derek’s eyes flashed blue, and gave Stiles level ten of the Hale-Glare-of-Gloom™. From outside the storage room of the old factory the silence gave way to loud hungry moans of the undead, bodies banging against the door. The rusted hinges weren’t going to last if the pileup on the other side grew until the pressure was too much.

“If I die I’m going to haunt your ass,” Stiles muttered as he shuffled backwards until he was flush with the wall, his heart about to beat out of his chest.

“You’re not going to die Stiles,” Derek said.

“I’m so going to die, you’ll probably heal,” he said, his hand ran through his hair but didn’t seem to have its usual calming effect, “oh, God. I’m gonna be a zombie—holy, Derek…you gotta keep my dad away from fast food, alright? His cholesterol is through the roof. Give Scott my comic collection; he’ll keep them safe–”

His panicked ramble was cut off when Derek was suddenly in his space, his hands tight around Stiles’ shoulders. There was this look of…uncertainty in his pale green eyes, and before Stiles knew what happened he was wearing the leather jacket.

“What–?”

“Keep your head down, hang on tight, and whatever happens…run,” Derek said seriously before he hoisted Stiles up onto his back.

Stiles gasped in surprise, his legs automatically locked around Derek’s waist as his arms wrapped around Derek’s shoulders. His mind raced with questions, for example; why the fuck Derek was about to risk his life for him of all people? Seriously there was no rhyme or reason for it, the guy made his dislike for Stiles crystal clear.

The door was kicked open, the hinges flying off and the metal crushed the few zombies right in front of it. There was a split second path and Derek was already running; Stiles let out a small shriek and curled himself tighter against Derek, his head hidden in the crook of Derek’s neck. Hands tried to swipe at him, but the leather and denim he wore made it hard for hands to actually grab and tear into his flesh.

Stiles had no idea how Derek was doing, he had no idea if he was hurt, he had no idea where they were going. At one point Derek jumped, and they free fell for a while before landing. Eventually though they made it to a place where fresh air was all around them and the noises of zombies were gone.

He found it in himself to look up when Derek slowed, they made it out of the old factory, into the back end of the woods.

Victory.

Well almost, because suddenly Derek collapsed to the ground with Stiles still on him. His knees smacked onto the hard ground violently but he had enough sense to roll off Derek, finally taking a second to see if he was okay.

“Oh my God, dude, Derek!” Stiles gasped and scrambled to his knees to shove Derek on his back and off his wounds.

There were angry tears of skin and muscle, blood oozed out in thick globs, and Stiles was so sure he was about to puke. Derek let out a pained sound and tried to curl in on himself only to fail and fall back.

“You so cannot die! We save each other! We don’t freaking die!” Stiles exclaimed, trying to see if the wounds were healing themselves or not.

Hands cupped his face and pulled him away from Derek’s torso. His eyes met pale ones which were riddled with pain. Stiles hated that; he couldn’t even do the cool werewolf pain drain thing, he could only sit there helplessly. He wasn’t just sitting there though, because now he was bent down with lips on his which were surprisingly soft.

So maybe he totally flailed and maybe he accidently bit Derek’s lip, but he was well within his freak out rights. Derek Hale was kissing him and he hasn’t kissed many people, let alone super attractive people that were so out of his league.

Stiles pulled back, lips still semi-puckered with his brows drawn in, “why did that feel like a goodbye kiss?”

Derek had the audacity to roll his eyes, “not…a goodbye kiss, it was a ‘calm down I’m healing slowly’ kiss.”

“So you’re not dying?!”

“No, I can feel myself healing.”

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Stiles wheezed, leaning back down for another kiss which was probably only a little less clumsy than the first one.

“What kind of kiss was that?” Derek asked softly.

“I think it was a ‘thank god you’re not dead don’t do that to me again you dick’ kiss,” Stiles answered.

“I saved your life. I’d do it again if I had to.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Derek did in fact shut him up.


ASK ME A PROMPT FOR THE DRABBLE CHALLENGE!

Possibili(tea)

Summary: Stiles might have a crush on his co-worker, who always brews him amazing tea.

Notes: Short and sweet! Inspired by this post. (On AO3)


Stiles puts all the little sample boxes into a paper bag, then staples on the string with a tag at the end. It holds the business information, and it makes the package look like a giant tea bag. Sort of. If you squint.

The girl smiles and pays him, then waves as she walks away.

“Tea you later!” Stiles calls cheerfully. Then he says, “Oof!” when Derek smacks him in the side.

“You deserved that,” Derek says mildly. “Didn’t we already have a discussion about using the word tea inappropriately?”

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Stiles walks into a coffee shop in the new city he moves to after college one night because he can’t sleep. 

Sitting at the front of the shop with an acoustic guitar in hand is Derek Hale. His voice is calming and a little smokey as he sings. When he finishes the song he looks up and sees Stiles. 

Derek’s eyes go a little wide for a millisecond before he smiles. It’s a soft smiles, the kind that Stiles never saw on Derek, the kind that wasn’t burdened.  

“This last one is a cover,” Derek says and he proceeds to play Werewolves of London. 

Stiles snorts before he can stop himself and then goes to buy a coffee. He finds a seat near the back of the shop and drinks it while Derek cleans his stuff up. When he finishes he comes back to Stiles and sits down, a twinkle in his eyes. 

“That last one was for Jackson,” Derek says, voice even and Stiles thinks he’s being serious for a second before he smiles and Stiles laughs, “It’s good to see you Stiles, you in town for a while.”

“I just moved here for work actually,” Stiles says with a smile at the quirk upward in Derek’s lips at that fact, “It’s good to see you too.” And it was true, in fact, if Derek keeps smiling like that and making jokes he might want to see a lot more of him. 

Sterek fandom, please gather around me. I have to talk to you about something extremely important.

Because today my friends, I discovered that something called the “Teddy bear hospital” exists.

And it’s even more adorable than you can imagine.

(It’s actually a French association, where parents bring their kids, who then have to find with the doctor what’s wrong with their favorite toy, check all the boxes on a chart with different diseases, then bring the teddy bear to the dentist, the radiologist, the surgery…

It’s mainly to teach kids not to be afraid of doctors and hospitals, and help kids that have to spend a lot of time in hospital understand what really happens there. The doctors are all medicine students, and like my sister, mainly dying inside from the cute)

Now can you imagine Sterek in that?

Stiles pushing the stretcher with the little bear on it, one paw wrapped in bandages because they suspect broken bones. Stiles following a little girl with really clear eyes and actual pigtails, smiling like a crazy person because of how cute the kid is, pointing decidedly at the different doors for her teddy bear’s next appointment.

And on the other side of the stretcher, Derek, the uncle/single dad, slowly melting in a puddle of besotted goo because of this guy in his doctor blouse, with the moles, and the smiles, and listening to freaking teddy bear’s heartbeat.

 

Or.

Stiles and Derek, the medical students that meet during the event. Derek being the surgeon (because he’s kind of worried about handling kids) (and of course he’s amazing and the kid adore him but he worries anyway because he’s big and scary and Laura told him he has too much eyebrow for one person).

Stiles being the charming radiologist, that comes into Derek’s surgery room clearly to torture him. Because he comes in with the most radiant smiles (and Derek always smiles back, even if they have seen each other thirty times already and even if he still doesn’t know the guy’s name) and a kid clutching at his hand, before helping them into little surgeon outfits. Derek can’t even look at him directly; it’s that stunning a view. He doesn’t understand how someone that must spend 23 hours a day studying and leaving on junk food can glow so much.

 

Or.

Stiles and Derek are single parents that bring their kids to the Teddy bear hospital, and both get promptly sent to the waiting room by their independent four and five years old.

They both meet in the waiting room, where they are the only one not enjoying these few moments of freedom, but pacing all over the place like trapped animals. Both of them have really bad memories of hospitals, and they bond ver it after  buying their fourth coffee in the vain hope of distracting themselves.

They get caught making out in a supply closet by a nurse. Both of their kids give them very disappointed looks.

Or.

Laura bringing Derek there without any explanation. Because she’s 6 months pregnant, and Derek will be there to see his nephew coming into the world, hospital phobia or not.

So Stiles raises his eyes from his planning to find that the little Derek is in fact one big, strong ball of muscles, pale eyes and blushing cheek, and closer to thirty than 3. Stiles immediately decides to forgets the “only kids from 3 to 8″ rules and calls dibs (because he saw Jeanine’s greedy eyes).

Derek may well be a weirdo, but he’s a beautiful one. Who mumbles when his sister kisses him on the cheek and actually resists for a few seconds before handing Stiles the teddy bear. It’s absolutely adorable.

Then Stiles starts the list of fake diseases and diagnoses a bad burn on the bear, when he catches Derek’s expression. The man looks completely broken and sad, and trying very hard and badly to hide it.

So Stiles backpedals so hard he physically gets back, hands in the air, and changes his diagnosis to a sprained paw and a bellyache. For the hour long visit, all of Stiles’ colleagues look at them both with bewildered eyes. Derek looks hounded, head hunched and either fixed on his shoes, between embarassement and real anxiety. He stay close to Stiles, and Stiles looks at his beautiful face and marvels. Sometimes, Derek even takes notes.

Stiles is madly in love after forty five minutes.


I don’t know I don’t have the time to write this, but if someone feels like it, please, pleeeease tag me in it.

I need it. For reasons.

4

“Yeah?” Stiles smiled.

“Yeah,” Derek nodded, and after a moment, they moved to erase the foot of space that had still been between them.

Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s, and he shivered when Derek rubbed his nose against his in a gesture that felt close to an eskimo kiss, but not quite.

Stiles let out a shaky breath. “My heart is beating out of my chest.”

“I can hear it,” Derek smiled, and Stiles let out a shaky laugh, his hands coming up to rest on Derek’s shoulders as Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist. “Mine’s beating crazily too.”

Stiles huffed, a big smile on his face as he whispered, “can I kiss you?”

“Of course,” Derek whispered, and then Stiles bridged the space between them and kissed him softly on the lips, and the kiss was as comfortably familiar as it was shockingly surprising. Stiles knew the touch and taste and texture of Derek’s lips, but the zing in his blood always shocked him and made him inhale sharply, his already rapid heartbeat speeding up as Derek deepened the kiss.

Their bodies plastered together, arms around each other, they got lost in their kisses, in each other.

They had been together almost a year, but they hadn’t said “I love you” to each other until then, and it had been a long time coming, truly. Stiles knew he had been in love with Derek before they had even gotten together, but he had waited to confess because it had felt a little too soon to declare his everlasting love after a week of dating.

He had also been scared of Derek not returning his love, and just the thought alone of Derek saying “thank you” in response or “I don’t love you” to his declaration of love had been enough to make Stiles to hold back the words whenever he had been on the verge of saying them and take things slow with him.

Derek was so incredibly important to him that he didn’t want to mess it up, and so he had held back so they could just enjoy the experience of dating each other.

But there Derek had been, smiling softly as he tried not to dance to the music he had on as he cleaned the living room, but then failed and ended up dancing silly, singing a little off key to the song, and Stiles had just felt so enamored by his boyfriend that when Derek finished and turned off the music, Stiles had pushed off the wall he had been leaning on and walked toward Derek, who had looked surprised when he saw Stiles, and then smiled widely.

And then Stiles had just blurted it out.

And here they were, having to break apart to get some much needed oxygen into their lungs.

“I had a whole scenario in my head where I said it first,” Derek murmured, resting his forehead against Stiles’ once more, and Stiles grinned.

“You did?”

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8

Liam Dunbar x Reader x Theo Raeken


~ Part 1

Warnings: Mature content, sexual content, hints of smut, nsfw.

_


“Where is she?” Theo fumed as he ran after Scott. He was on his way towards the cafeteria, in hopes of getting rid of Theo since he’s been asking about your presence at least three times just this morning.

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stilesbansheequeen  asked:

dunno if you still want these, but 3 + sterek would be cute if you do :) either way, awesome list!!

3. “Do you even own a shirt?!”
Shirts Are For Quitters
Also on ao3

Stiles liked college a lot so far, it was freeing in a way that high school had never been and he had scheduled all of his classes to start after 10 so he got to sleep in. His only issue with college was Derek Hale’s allergy to shirts.

Derek lived two rooms down from him, always had his door open, and never wore a shirt. Ever. Stiles was convinced that Derek went to class without a shirt on, though he had no proof of that because they didn’t have any classes together.

They were a part of a pretty tight group on their floor, they all hung out in the common room after class, went to meals together, and went out together on weekends. In their nearly 8 months of friendship Stiles had seen him wearing a proper shirt twice. Derek even wore tight, white tank tops to pretty much ever meal which hardly counted as a shirt at all.

Stiles was walking home from class one sunny Friday in April when he finally snapped. He had spent the entire year so far suppressing boners when Derek was around, but this was just excessive.  

He couldn’t take his eyes off of Derek’s sweaty chest, with his stupid muscles and his stupid chest hair. “Heads up Stilinski!” Derek yelled as the football that Derek and Isaac had been throwing around got passed Derek and almost hit Stiles.

“Do you even own a shirt?!” Stiles said, his voice higher than usual and his cheeks flushed.

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