This one shot came
straight from the seventh circle of Taehyung hell that I’ve been living in lately, so don’t judge. It’s Taehyung sugar daddy type of thing, 4.1k words about fucking Taehyung. If this fucks you up, sue me.
Inspired by Ty Dolla
$ign’s single Zaddy. Don’t judge my music choice, either.
Hey! I asked this already but tumblr stole it cuz it was too amazing...but any fics where stiles and Derek are mates and stiles scent drives Derek crazy. Ps: love love love your blog 💛
Tumblr didn’t eat it, it was on our list and on the pending ask page. We get a lot of asks and go in order, so sometimes it takes longer to get through them. Glad you like the blog, here’s some scent fics for ya. -Emmy
let’s talk about how Derek loves knowing Stiles’ scent, how he doesn’t
care if it’s a weird werewolf thing because it’s all he’s ever known.
how he loves being able to pick him out in a crowd before they see each
other. how he’ll stick his face in Stiles’ armpit and go to sleep like
that, because it’s a comfort, because he remembers watching his mom
playfully do that to his dad on a sunday afternoon. how whenever anyone
asks him what he loves the most about Stiles, his mind always goes to
scent before he realises that it sounds weird to anyone who doesn’t know
about werewolves. how when Stiles starts stealing his clothes, he can’t
bring himself to be mad about it because it means Stiles’ scent is all
over him all the time, even when he’s not there.
Written for the prompt: Stiles smells really good to Derek. Like
everything sweet rolled into one. Not that Derek would admit it. Maybe
he accidentally gets ride of Stiles’ bodyspray or never returns that
“I’ll bring it to the cleaner’s and give it back to you,” Stiles
said, and then Derek didn’t see his jacket for three weeks and just
assumed Stiles forgot all about it.
Only then he does
bring it back and, well. It doesn’t smell like smoke anymore, that’s for
sure. It holds a weeks-old sort of chemical scent, he assumes from
wherever Stiles brought it to be cleaned, so faint Derek would hardly
notice if he weren’t looking for it. Under that, a hint of Derek’s own
scent. All overlaid with a whole lot of teenage boy. Like Stiles threw
it on the ground and rolled around on top of it for a year or so.
Stiles keeps scent-marking Derek, and it’s going to drive Derek crazy.
“You can’t just tell someone they smell bad!” his sister yells. “I don’t care,” says Derek testily. “I never want to smell that guy again.” - In which Derek doesn’t realize quite how nice Stiles smells.