“This is,” Stiles runs his fingers along the countertop in the kitchen, marble cold under his hand. “Well, quaint isn’t quite the right word for it. How much did this place even cost?”
Peter watches him as he opens the fridge, reaching in a plucking out two bottles. “A pretty penny. I think he’s finally figured out that living in decrepit, dank shit holes is probably not the best for his image. Beer?”
Stiles glances his way, turning his back and whistling as he leans against the large island counter, gazing up at the high ceiling of the suite. “Sure.”
the ties that hold your mind and mouth give out (1913 words) by verity
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Derek Hale
Additional Tags: Directedverse, Established Relationship, True Alpha Scott McCall, Sub Stiles, Dom/sub Undertones, Xeno, Full Shift Werewolves, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Series: Part 2 of directedverse skittles
"It’s rare that our kind can take the wolf form," Derek says seriously. "The full shift isn’t for power, Scott—it’s a way to experience the purest form of our nature."
Scott searches for words that aren’t but my boyfriend just wants the purest form of my dick.
LIKE IT SAYS ON THE TIN <3
*japanese lady voice* kono bangumi wa. goran no suponsaa no teikyou de okurishimasu.
“You risk much, coming here,” Peter says, voice soft so as not to gain the attention of the nurses that pass by, but his gaze is focused, intense.
Stiles loses herself in that gaze for a long moment, unable and unwilling to break it. Peter’s eyes are damnably pretty, even with the scars that twist the side of his face into something nightmares are made of. She’s not sure how anyone could look at Peter and see a catatonic man, because even still and silent, the man’s presence is like a wild thing, powerful and heady and so damn feral; the monster within barely leashed, barely contained. Peter’s eyes are what truly gives his awareness away though: they are bright and avid, watching the world as it passes him by with an uncanny intelligence that even now makes Stiles want to squirm in her seat on his bed as that assessing gaze is focused on her. “Why?” she finally asks.
The man says nothing, merely quirks an eyebrow in question, and Stiles fists the thin blanket in her hands to stop herself from fidgeting. She’s so nervous, so excited; she doesn’t know what she’s doing or even why right now, but she can’t fight the pull she feels either. She hopes that this meeting will harden her resolve – one way or another.
“Why are you doing all this? Why not just kill whoever and be done with it? Why drag Scott into it? Why try and kill us?” Stiles unloads in one quick breath before she forcibly clamps her mouth shut. She has so many more questions, but she needs to give Peter the chance to answer them, if the man will at all. Stiles isn’t taking nearly as big a risk as Peter may seem to think: for some reason, Peter is lying low, is taking his time with his vengeance, and he won’t risk everything to murder a sixteen-year-old girl.
Or so Stiles hopes.
Peter’s lips quirk in a strange semblance of a grin, only there’s nothing like amusement in his face. “I need a pack, and Scott…. Scott was …convenient,” the man drawls, something predatory lingering in the gleam of his white teeth and quirked mouth. “It could have just as easily been you.”
Her breath catches in her throat as she stills, even her heartbeat pausing for a long, terrifying moment.
“Oh yes,” Peter purrs, leaning forward, nose flaring as the man scents the air, scents Stiles. “The second you darted off from your friend, racing like a wild thing in my woods, laughing and grinning, heartbeat echoing loud and clear in my ears, I almost had you.”
Stiles can’t move, can’t speak, can only stare in fascination at the Alpha leaning ever closer to her. She is mesmerized, hypnotized; lulled by Peter’s soft voice, and captivated by blue eyes as they begin to burn bright crimson.
He braces himself on the bed, hands a hair’s breadth from touching her thighs, as he leans in even closer, face mere inches from hers. She can feel the warm ghost of his breath on her lips, can see nothing but the hell-fire and fury of his eyes. She breathes him in, and unconsciously leans just a little bit closer to him, almost close enough to kiss. Her heartbeat accelerates at the thought, and she can’t help licking her lips, an old nervous twitch.
“I almost had you then, but your father caught you first,” he says, whisper soft. “It’s probably for the best.”
She swallows, eyes wide. “Why?”
She is fascinated by the wrinkles that crease the corners of his eyes as he smiles. “Because, Lykaios Stilinski, I would hate for your first bite to have been so unnecessarily violent,” he says, right before he kisses her.
It is not a gentle kiss. It is fierce and ferocious, teeth and tongue claiming her mouth with a vicious hunger she helpless but to give in to, allowing him to do as he wills. He leans forward even more, sliding his hands up the bed, using his upper-body to push her down and back without breaking his kiss. He moves between her legs as she unintentionally opens them, pressing against her fully, letting her feel a teasing hint of his half-hard erection.
And then she’s blinking at his ceiling dazedly, as Peter is mysteriously perched in his chair exactly as he had been earlier, stoic and bland and not a single hair out of place as a nurse passes by.
(She doesn’t know what she looks like to Peter, sprawled on his bed: flushed and panting, legs spread wide, nipples taut and teasing beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, lips swollen and pupils dilated. She smells of arousal and fear in equal measure, and layered just underneath, she smells like him. Peter can’t wait for his little game to be over, because when it ends, when he’s won, he knows just what prize he is going to claim.)
Just a little teaser. This is the fic that’s getting me back into full-time writing. This won’t be finished for awhile, but I really like this scene. ^^