Part time student. Full time wolf. Any questions? You'd be better off asking Stiles.


{Teen Wolf RP blog for Scott McCall. Mun 18+}
alpha with performance issues

[[ need sleep, rest of replies after work tomorrow. I am so sorry guys <3 ]]


Surprisingly enough, it was amusement that threaded through into Stiles’ scent at Scott’s answer, even as the amber-eyed teen slightly shook his head and quietly huffed a breath at just… the ridiculousness of the situation. The fact that they were having this talk now, when time was pressing down on them both, seconds ticking away in a countdown to this day’s test, or even the fact that… well, neither of them could have just brought it up before coming here. Or waited until everything was over.

Awkward and patient-impatient at the worst possible times, the both of them. Maybe some things would never change—up to and including the fact that Stiles had tried to make himself as clear as possible and Scott still seemed rather uncertain about his actual… meaning. Of ‘being with me.’

"Dude… It’s fine if you don’t know; you have time to think about it." I hope. Yet it really was Scott’s question that brought that surge of warmth to Stiles’ chest because it was… it was so Scott. The amber-eyed teen mentioned in his earlier, start-and-stop speech that he wanted to wake up with the Alpha wrapping himself around him, no clothes between them, just skin to skin, and… Scott asked now if Stiles meant more than friends.

So perfectly Scott.

Side-eyeing the ‘wolf, letting his fingernails rake over his best friends scalp now that Scott’s hair was in some sort of order—bedhead tamed with expert practice—Stiles chewed on his lower lip for a moment in thought before finally saying, “I’m going to show you exactly what I mean, what I want, all right? You have time to think about it, to decide what you want. If it’s something you want, too… then we’ll talk about it. If you decide it’s not, then… I guess we’ll find a comfortable baseline again and stick to that. But. This is what I mean, Scott.”

Finally pulling his hands from the Alpha’s hair, it was only to grab hold of Scott’s hands in turn: slipping fingers just a bit beneath the hem of his sleep shirt, splaying the other teen’s hands over the magic-user’s hips, the arch of the bone. Satisfied with that for now, Stiles cupped his palms over the ‘wolf’s neck, Scott’s pulse a reassuring—slightly quick—beat against his skin, and the amber-eyed teen slowly began to smile as he leaned in closer to brush their cheeks together. The faint stubble from Scott’s need to shave rasped against Stiles’ skin, but he continued with the affectionate nuzzle until finally coming to the delicate shell of Scott’s ear.

Weighing consequences for just a moment, Stiles gave in to temptation and nipped. (It was only fair, after all, considering how many times the Alpha did it to him, unaware of the affect it had on the lanky teen.)

Head turning to the side, he followed the edge of the ‘wolf’s jawline—nose scenting leisurely—before eventually coming to the tip of Scott’s chin. Lifting up just enough so that his bright gaze met Scott’s dark one, moving slow enough so that the other could pull away, Stiles settled his mouth against Scott’s in a sweetly chaste kiss as his fingers combed absently through the short hairs at the nape of the Alpha’s neck.

Didn’t bother pulling away this time as the warm hints of both affection and desire layered through his scent: spices and musk and the flare of ozone and earth and, beneath it all, pack.

His lips curve into a hesitant smile, eyes flicking about Stiles’ face, tracking his gaze. He’s struggling to keep up with the influx of emotions that he’s receiving, absorbing. Stiles seems breathless? Amused? Skeptical? There’s a note of desperation amongst it all, but he can’t be sure that’s not courtesy of his own emotions or hormones or something. He’s acutely aware of the time they spend static and knows that Stiles is, too. They both know the coming trial will be arduous, the longest of them yet, and still, they’re hovering by the bed, half dressed and just waiting. 

Time to think. Fuck. Yes. He has a lot of thinking to do. He nods quickly, blinking up at his best friend, mouth dry and eyes wide. His palms are even managing to get a little sweaty; a nervous reaction he rarely experiences these days. It’s all completely ridiculous. Stiles is his best friend. That should make this easy, not terrifying. 

And then that sweet, sweet scent that promises happiness is flooding his senses, assuring him that everything’s okay, that Stiles is okay, is happy, and all he’s calm again, ready to tackle Stiles to the bed and bury his nose into the curve of his neck, sucking in that scent until it covers him whole - and those long, lithe fingers are still glancing over his scalp, pulling yet another indecent noise from his throat as he thinks back to Stiles words, thinks back to what it is he wants. 

He remains exactly as he is, a slight incline of his head in response to the human’s words, completely content for Stiles to pave the way. Again, he’s grateful that he has time to think this over, but really, he knows where this is going. And he knows exactly what it is he’ll be thinking. Because it’s always been them, always been Scott’n’Stiles. They’ll still be the two, stupid, goofy teens that share too much and stay up too late and hold each other and touch and laugh and love. He supposes they’re just making it a little more formal. A little more physical. 

Eyes track Stiles’ movements and he’s pliant and willing as his hands are shifted over to Stiles’ hips where they rest easily, curving around his lean sides. 

Scott still hasn’t moved, hasn’t said anything. There’s parts of him that are shocked, still confused, but there’s a growing part of him that’s worried that this will end if he so much as sighs. The animal that usually resides somewhere deep in his chest is surfacing, coiling, drawing a quiet gasp from his lips as Stiles’ cheek brushes against his own. It’s similar to something Scott himself would do, so perfectly wolfish. 

He loses it at that nip, a whine sounding as he twists, hands slinking around to the swell of Stiles’ ass to draw him in close, leaning his cheek and jaw into those soft lips.

And then Stiles’ lips are on his own - finally - and it’s just right. He tilts his head back and to the side, gentle and curious as they discover how they fit together. 

[ OPEN ]


          “Oh come on, I can’t do spells and all that crap. I can just light stuff on fire, make you some ice or water, make lightning hit crap and control weird shadows. It doesn’t exactly involve carrying around a bunch of herbs with me.” She replied, before chuckling lightly and downing her drink in one. “Come on, let’s go find you some so this night can be a little more fun.”


"That sounds like spells and all that crap to me. And besides,” He scrunches his nose a little, eyes flicking towards the kitchen. “I know there’s wolfsbane in here somewhere. Or at least, there has been at some point before.” He grins as she downs her drink, glass clinking as it hits the table. “Dude, you’re the best.” 

↖ Sucks at RPing but does it anyway


We both know that love is what you make it, I want you, all or nothing at all. My gift for ohmccalls for the Teen Wolf Rare Pairs Exchange!
(Also on AO3.)
Ffffffuck, these two have always been the relationship that kind of makes Teen Wolf for me, but since 3B I’m totally gone for them romantically. Like, obsessed, help I’ve fallen into a ScottStiles hole and I can’t get out.

they cuddle and tell each other stories and stuff (*・∀・*)

You make me feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life, And I could die to find that simple kind of love You can’t deny.
Kind-of playing with a simpler, softer style, I guess? And because I am here for the drama and conflict and angst but at the end of the day, I’m a sucker for nice things for these boys.

        “Quit touching my butt. I know that wasn’t an accident.”