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Arses shouldn't look this good. Not when the arse in question belonged to a teacher. Seriously, dark and tight denim should be banned from the school...but then Stiles wouldn't get a full view from the back of the class. She sighed so hard that some of her papers fluttered and almost slipped off the side of her table. However, that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing- Mr Hale, ever a gentleman, would pick them up for her and then she would get a perfect view of long, lean legs and perfect arse.Mr Peter Hale was everything that a teacher of teenage students shouldn't be; tight grey tops that showed off an inappropriate, but very welcome, amount of muscle and collarbone, trimmed stubble and piercing eyes that could make you shiver if the room temperature was just right. She'd heard girls raving about him and his 'exploits' outside town in the halls, but refused to believe them. Boys raved about him too- she nearly whacked Danny upside the head when he wouldn't stop going on during a Chemistry experiment they'd almost failed because Danny wasn't paying attention. Now, Mr Hale was reading an exerpt from Dracula with a voice as heady as velvet to the throat and as rough as gravel being dragged. It was a voice that could send Stiles rushing home at the end of fifth period English to her bedroom. She groaned quietly and face planted her desk.Lydia shot a curious look at her best friend before tearing off a piece of note paper and scribbling a note on it. The noise of it being scraped against her desk made Stiles perk up her head, half paying attention to Mr Hale's reading. Flipping it open, she scanned Lydia's cursive writing;
What's wrong with you?
Stiles looked at her best friend, who shrugged her shoulders and pouted her lips. Stiles gave her a small smile and shook her head. Nothing's wrong. A few minutes later and the bell for the end of class rang, and students began to mutter to each other as they closed folders and packed bags. Mr Hale closed his book and stretched his arms above his head, bones clicking. Stiles almost fell off her seat as she saw his pecs jump beneath the thin fabric, and Lydia nearly tugged her out of her seat by her shirt collar. To get out of the classroom, they had to pass Mr Hale's desk- a small gap between that and the front row of desks."I look forward to reading your character development essay, Stiles. You're style is quite refreshing," Mr Hale said as Stiles passed, a smile on his face and his eyes glittering. Stiles gave him a small smile before using her folder to hide her crimson blush on her cheeks and almost running out of the room. Lydia was waiting outside for her, inspecting her French Manicure."What was up with you in there today? I thought English was your favourite class?" Lydia asked, linking their arms as they made their way to their lockers."Yeah, sorry," Stiles said, shifting her bag, "just been rough few nights. Nightmares and things.""You're mum?" Lydia asked, and she rubbed Stiles' arm soothingly when she nodded. "I'll call you later, ok?" She gave Stiles a quick squeeze around the shoulders before walking away. Stiles waved to her back and grabbed her car keys, spinning around and finding herself face-to-face with her English teacher."Mr Hale!" she breathed, jumping back against the lockers and bracing her hands against them. Peter chuckled, and Stiles thought she saw his eyes glow blue. When she blinked, they were their usual beautiful colour."Stiles," he said, linking his hands behind his back and bowing his head. "I was wondering if I could speak with you quickly?" Stiles was watching Peter's lips. She loves the way her name rolled off his tongue. What would Peter's feel like against hers? Would the stubble scratch at her skin and leave a burn? Or perhaps his tongue would slip across her bottom lip and would invade her when she opened her mouth to moan...He was staring at her, eyes twinkling and lip twitching."Sorry, what did you ask?" she asked, shaking her head. Her straight short hair brushed against her jaw, and she shivered slightly."I asked if you could come to my classroom after school on Monday?" he asked again, eyebrow quirking. Stiles nodded."Absolutely," she replied. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Peter chuckled softly and Stiles couldn't help the stretch of her lips, blushing bright red. That might've been a little too far, too eager. She loved the rumble of his voice, though, and she couldn't help but wonder if his abs vibrated when he made that noise. She almost physically restrained herself from touching him."Excellent," he said, teeth flashing in a smile that one could almost consider being a tad feral. "See you next week" With that, he walked away, back towards his classroom. Stiles waited until he was around the corner before stuffing her head in her locker and groaning loudly.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Monday came too quickly for Stiles. Every time she took a look at the completed character development essay on her desk, her stomach flipped like a dog learning new tricks. And, like any other teenage girl who was going to see someone she fancied, she tried to make an effort.

"Why would I wear a dress? I never wear a dress to school!" One of there three dresses she'd forcibly bought because of Lydia hit the floor on the other side of the room.

"Pastels with black. What do I think I am, a chalkboard?" A pale blue jumper became precariously close to jumping out of the window.

Now, the silver bangles she'd added to her usual outfit of a plaid shirt and skinny jeans scratched against the thin skin of her wrist. Danny looked up from his textbook from his position beside her on their lab bench as the thin metal bands jingled again for the hundredth time that half an hour. "Are you ok?" he asked. Stiles' painted nails stopped biting into her skin and she looked up, pencil clenched between her teeth.
"Hmm?" she asked, spitting the pencil out onto the desk with a click. Danny rolled his eyes at the unfemenine gesture.
"Are you ok? You're basically gouging trenches into your wrist," Danny said, flicking a finger at the angry red marks on her skin. One of them was almost bleeding.
"Oh shit!" she breathed, stretching for a paper towel at the end of their bench and dampening it with water. She tried to slip it under the bangles before giving up. "Danny, could you get these off for me?" Danny made quick work of slipping them off her wrist, and Stiles almost breathed out in relief when the cool paper touched the hot skin.
"What's up with you today? I know you hate Chemistry because Harris is a dick, but I've never seen you so unfocused," Danny said. Stiles scoffed and shrugged a little.
"Have to go see a teacher after school," she said quietly, fiddling with the corners of her textbook. Danny's mouth flopped open.
"Who is it?" he asked, and Stiles mumbled something under her breath. "What was that?" Danny asked, scooting closer with a smile twitching on his lips. Stiles mumbled a little louder.
"Mr Hale!" she exclaimed quietly as Danny moved a little closer.
"No! What did you do?" he asked. Stiles shoved a pen lid in her mouth and made a 'I don't know!' noise. Danny let out a puff of breath, his eyebrows rising with it. Stiles spat the lid out into her hand.
"He just came up to me at my locker on Friday and asked me to come see him after school today," she explained. "He didn't saw why."
"So it could be anything?" Danny asked. Stiles nodded, her cheeks flushing.
"Absolutely anything."
---()---
Stiles was leaning against her locker when the bell for the end of the day went. Students rushed past her in their bids to go home and ignore their homework. In her backpack, her own ring-bound essay felt heavy. She waited until the hallway was marginally clear before making her way back to her English classroom. All the lights were turned off, bar the pool of light spilling from her classroom. She lingered just outside the door before entering when Mr Hale said,
"No point in lingering in the hallway, Stiles- I don't bite." The last part made Stiles shiver, and she took a deep breath before entering the dim classroom. Mr Hale's bent silhouette was outlined in gold from the desk lamp on beside him, the only form of illumination in the room. He placed his pen down on the table once Stiles was fully in front of his desk- making papers could wait. He watched her closely before saying anything, taking in the sound of her rapidly beating heart, the smell of arousal and nervousness leaking off her, and her flushed cheeks. He raised an eyebrow when Stiles slapped a thick wad of paper down on his desk- 20 pages, easy- and said,
"Sorry it's so early. I know you must have other papers to mark, but I wanted to make sure I got it in," she said. Peter smiled and picked up the essay, depositing it snugly in his satchel on the floor beside his chair.
"I wouldn't have expecting anything less from you," he said. He eased himself out of his chair and passed to the front of the desk, leaning against it while Stiles positioned herself on top of one of the desks in the front row. Their legs were less than half a metre away from each other, and Stiles could almost feel the tension in the air. "Why do you think I called you here for?" he asked, and Stiles shrugged. She didn't trust her vocal chords to make an embarrassing noise or say something totally inappropriate. No filter, remember? "I called you in here to talk about your work," he said, and Stiles brow furrowed.
"My work? Is there a problem with it?" Stiles asked, confused. Peter chuckled, enjoying the little taste of teenage confusion.
"Not at all, Stiles. On the contrary, actually," he said. Stiles shuffled uncomfortably on the desk. "It's clear to me that your work is a higher calibre than anyone else's in the classes, including Ms Martin's." Stiles blushed and thought about what Lydia would say about that. "I remember your father mentioning your ambition to become a writer when you were older, is that correct?" Stiles nodded. "Then I wish to proposition you."
"I don't think teachers are allowed to proposition students, Mr Hale," Stiles said, and Peter laughed, eyes sparkling.
"You misunderstand me, Stiles," he said. "This is a proposition to better educate you for the future."
"Oh?"
"As you know, extra credit is something that a lot of students are after. Crashing grades and social lives have large impacts on schoolwork and one's outlook, and I know it is something you are in no need of," Peter explained, and Stiles nodded in agreement. She was a straight-A student and lacrosse gave her enough to keep herself busy during free time during the week. "However, I'm willing to give you some, in exchange for a promise you must keep until the future."
"What do I have to do?" Stiles asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
"Calm down, Stiles. I can basically hear your pulse from over here," Peter ordered, and Stiles took a deep breath. "I would like to set you different tasks, one a week, to see how you adapt to different writing styles. This sort of practise could be invaluable for your future career," Peter said, leaning back and watching Stiles mull it over. He did notice, however, that she was subconsciously playing with the cuff of her shirt, pulling it down every few seconds and rubbing it, as if it was injured.
"The whole point of a proposition is for both parties to get something out of this. I get practise and valuable skills. What do you get?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. Peter liked the way that it revealed her moles that dotted her skin and opened her eyes up to the light, making them glow gold.
"Simply the pleasure of reading your writing and knowing I'll be helping you. That's what teachers are here for, right?" he asked. Stiles was quiet for a moments, picking at her full bottom lip that Peter would love to feel against his own.
"Ok, I'll agree," Stiles said, and Peter couldn't help the smile that formed.
"Excellent. I look forward to seeing you more often, then," he said, and he immediately smelt the injection of arousal that flew off of her. She gave him a small, tight smile before pushing herself off the desk. But he wrist caught the side of it, and she hissed in pain through her teeth, clutching at the broken skin. Peter was suddenly too close to her, their foreheads almost touching. He could smell the blood. Stiles allowed his to take her arm in his hand and prize back the shirt sleeve, exposing the red, bloody scratches. He was suddenly filled with rage.
"Who did this?" he growled, and he felt the shiver that coursed through his student's body.
"No one, I just had a reaction to some jewellery," Stiles said quietly, tilting her head to look up at her teacher. Their noses were millimetres away, and they could feel each other's breath on their lips. Peter's eyes were hooded as he searched Stiles' face for hesitation. Her eyes were wide, mouth open, cheeks flushed. The arousal in the air coming from both of them could've been cut by a knife. While one of Peter's fingers skimmed the scratches lightly, his other hand came up to skim over her cheekbone. She leaned minutely into his touch, and Peter took that as his cue to move forward. He slotted their lips together, her bottom lip between his, and Stiles didn't fight. Instead, she fell into it, raking a hand through his hair and breathing sharply in through her nose. Peter made a hungry noise and pulled her hips closer to his, so they were flush together. Peter's body felt just as good as she'd imagined, and she moaned as his tongue slipped across her bottom lip and opened her mouth, almost begging for his entry. He plundered her, exploring the taste of strawberry and lemon candy. Behind his eyelids, Peter's eyes glowed an intense blue.
He pulled out of the kiss a few moments later, keeping their noses and foreheads touching. Stiles was breathing heavily, her heart rate so fast that Peter was scared she might have a heart attack. "I don't think we're allowed to do that kinda thing," she breathed, and Peter chuckled. He leaned in towards her ear, nose nudging the outer shell.
"Then let's forget about it. It was a one-time thing; I couldn't help myself,' he said, his voice husky but serious. He leaned away from her, their bodies no longer touching. He made his way back around his desk. "I'll have your first task ready by Friday," he said, reaching for his papers. Stiles nodded and bit her lip, savouring the rich taste of him that lingered there. She shouldered her bag so it was more secure on her person and headed for the door.
"I'll look forward to it," she said, before leaving. She stopped just before she was about to cross the threshold. "Oh, and Mr Hale?" Peter looked up from his papers, eyes glinting, face neutral. "You weren't the only one who couldn't help themselves." Peter's head hit the desk just after Stiles left the room, cupping her wrist.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

p>The manilla envelope was slapped onto Peter's desk and the sender out of the room before he looked up to see who it was. But, the flash of a plaid shirt tied around the waist with a thick knot was enough to give him an inkling. He looked up through his lashes at the rest of his students as they left the classroom, and waited before touching the brown paper. Tearing the flap open, the thick skin on his thumb pad was sliced, drawing a line of red, and he hissed through his teeth. Thankfully, the cut healed within seconds before he pulled the essay completely and read the title page. He was pretty sure the title was an attack on him.

Letters of a Drowned Affair

Still, he couldn't say that she didn't try or wasn't effective. He told her to interpret a Edwardian love affair gone wrong, and she did. With a smirk on his face, he flipped over the title page and read the first paragraph...

If everthing but Love was so easy in this life, would we all not be heart-broken millionaires? With scores of women and men behind us with hearts that our money could not fix? But if nothing was as easy as Love, would we all not be blissful fools in our own imaginations of soft words and warm arms. But words are not always soft, and arms are not always warm. Sometimes the words cut, leaving hot trails across the lips and ear, and sometimes arms are hard and unyielding, holding you prisoner while sentence is passed.

Peter chuckled and flipped the folder shut. Oh, that girl could write. He was surprised that with that level of emotional blackmail, she wasn't employed by the FBI to root out criminals. A hand rubbed over his stubble, pulling on the skin slightly. This was her third extra credit paper, and Peter was starting to wonder if it was even worth it. Ever since their kiss, neither of them had been thinking straight- Stiles had been putting more and more into her writing, Peter had been trying to take it in. Had he hurt her so bad that she was punishing him with his own creations? Clearly she was.
---()---
Stiles drummed her fingers on her knees as she sat cross-legged on her bed, lips pursed. She needed help. Fast. Her kiss with Peter had unwound something within her, making it hard not to see it everywhere. She'd contemplated telling Lydia about it, but even though she was her best friend, she could be judgemental and was always looking for new gossip. She nearly told Danny, but decided against it. They were Chemistry partners, nothing more. She stuck the pen that was balanced between her fingers in her mouth and tongued the lid, ignoring the large build up of saliva. The page of the notebook in front of her was half covered in scribbled paragrpahs, half-phrases, and adjectives. For someone who fantasized about sex at least once a day...she didn't know much about it.
That's what she was doing. She was writing sex. Erotica, if she was going to be precise. What she found so easy to make up in her head and find on the internet, she found almost impossible to write down on paper. She'd almost scribbled her pen through the page out of embarrasment of what she'd alread written. Seriously, the people on the internet were like geniuses compared to her. She was starting to get desperate, different ideas running around her head in a circle that didn't seem to make any sense. Writing down whatever was clunking around in her head wasn't going to help her. She needed structure. A plan. She needed to disassociate herself from what happened between her and Peter, and get it out of her system quickly. She tried to keep their meets as short and as proper as possible; more than a metre awa from each other at all times, a breif description of the piece and a piece of paper being handed to her for her next asignment. She wondered what Peter thought about all this...?
"Oooooooh my God," she groaned, rubbing her eyes with her hands, making colourful swirls appear behind her eyelids. Pulling them away, her eyes skimmed around her room and fell on a blue and yellow leaflet on her desk. She perked up. Scrambling off the bed, she snatched at it before she could fall off the bed and fall to the floor in an embarrasing heap. Naturally, she did so, but the leaflet fell to the floor beside her as her hand slipped off it on the desk, so she grabbed it gleefully. The library- it was bound to have something of use to her. Also, she had some overdue books that would almost certainly kil the old lady who worked on the scanning system. Stiles smiled down at the leaflet.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Derek could hear it before he'd even looked up. Over the sound of turning pages and bleeping machinery, was the sound of an erratic heartbeat mixed with too-loud music blasting from headphones. It was unlike the slow, steady ones surrounding him, promising a little excitement to the dull place that was the Beacon Hills Public Library. Keeping his eyes locked on the page in front of him, he honed in his other senses. Along with the smell of ink, spine glue, and plastic was a heady perfume he'd never smelt before in this familiar environment and nervousness. He could hear deep, shaky breaths over steady ones from readers in their soft chairs. He shifted in his position on the floor and raised his eyes just enough to see the source of the anomaly- a girl- jog up the stairs to the third floor. The only things up there were the computers, college student resources and the 'adult literature' (as the map called it).
Curious, Derek unfolded himself from his position at the bottom of the Shakespeare bookcase and slowly followed her, thankful for his werewolf stealth in avoiding a few of the metal-supported steps that creaked obscenely loudly under his weight. When he reached the top of the stairs, the girl was out of sight. To his left, a few tables were surrounded by bookcases, students browsing and snoozing in the late afternoon. One snoozing student's folder had toppled over and was now blanketing his curly head and squashing it into his history books. Shooting a quick glance at the students, he grabbed a stack of books from the return trolley and made his way to the adult literature section. The area was empty, lines of pink and purple spines poking out from the shelves. Peeking out from behind one if the further away bookcases was a flash of red fabric, and Derek headed for it, being stealthy enough to hide behind a close bookcase so he could study the girl. A green plaid shirt was tied around her narrow, curved waist with a big knot, long slim fingers turned the book in her hands, and a red Blink-182 t-shirt was draped over her body. Short brown hair was ticked behind her ear to reveal a sprinkling of moles that's highlighted the pale skin. She looked familiar to him, but Derek couldn't place where he might've seen her before. He had to bite his lip to stop laughing at the grimace on the girl's face as she read a particularly unsatisfying blurb. He waited for her to put it back before approaching her.
---()---
Stiles couldn't believe she was doing this. If she got caught, that would mean a very awkward conversation with her dad that she wasn't planning on hearing until she had to tell her own children. She was the Sheriff's daughter, for God's sake! She tried to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible; normal clothes, iPod headphones in, bag over her shoulder. If anyone didn't know her, they could've easily mistaken her for a college student. The student books were on the same floor as what she was looking for, and she cast around a quick glance before jogging for the stairs.
Once at the top of the stairs, she shot a look at the students before scrambling for her section so no one would see her, hiding behind one of the far bookcases. There, she picked up her first book and flipped over so she could read it's blurb...

She's a demon-slayer who hungers for sensual pleasure- but fears it will always be denied her. Until Tayla Mancuso lands in a hospital run by demons in disguise, and the head doctor, Eidolon, makes her body burn with unslakeable desire-

Stiles brow furrowed and she snapped the book shut, hurriedly pushing it back into it's place on the shelf. Why didn't she just look this stuff up on the internet? It was less scary that way. "A few more, Stiles. You need this," she told herself, pulling out the next book- one with a dark grey cover and a silver tie printed on it.
"I wouldn't read that one, if I were you," a voice said behind her, and Stiles dropped the book, squeaking out a,
"Oh my God!"
She whirled around and was suddenly confronted with one of the prettiest boys she'd ever seen. Pale eyes and a cheeky grin smiled at her, as did the lightly-defined forearms that were revealed by rolled-up shirt sleeves. A mop of black hair swept upwards from his forehead, leaving swathes of tanned, smooth skin. "And why wouldn't I read it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The boy smirked.
"My sister read it and said it wasn't good," he said, shrugging.
"Huh," Stiles said, putting the book back and walking off, fingers skimming the books. Derek's fingers followed, and Stiles looked over he shoulder, brow furrowed.
"Come in this section often then?" Derek asked, and Stiles shrugged.
"Do you?" she countered.
"Only if there's something worth it," he said, lips twitching, and Stiles used her fringe to hide some of her face, but Derek saw her obscene lips curve up. Really, those lips were more obscene than most of the things in this section of the library. Stiles carried on walking, skirting across the far wall. A black book with green writing embossed on the spine caught her eye and she pulled it out.
"Looks like I found something worth it," she said, showing him the book. "You never said what you were actually doing in here...?"
Derek lifted up the books in his arms. "I'm putting some books back," he said. Stiles raised an eyebrow and picked up the first book in the pile and held it up next to her own book.
"I don't think A History of Thermodynamics goes in the adult literature section," she said, a small laugh bubbling through her lips, and Stiles was rewarded with a huge grin from Derek. He put the books on top of the unit and leant against it, crossing his arms and looking at her.
"Then what are you doing in here?" he asked, and Stiles chewed on her lip, unsure what to tell him.
"Would you believe me if I said that I was looking for a guide that would show me how to get out of town, dress pretty, and seduce a stone-hearted banker with my body?" she asked, face neutral. Derek shook his head, and Stiles sighed. "Eh, didn't think that'd work. I'm doing research," she finally admitted. Derek cocked an eyebrow.
"Research?" he repeated, and Stiles shrugged. "What for?"
"Maybe I'll tell you another day," she replied, smiling and making her way back towards the stairs.
"Does that mean I'll see you again?" Derek called after her. Stiles' retreating figure just raised a hand before it disappeared. A few minutes later, and Derek realised he hadn't even learnt the girl's name.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Where the hell have you been? I've not seen you in days!" Lydia rounded, pouncing on Stiles when she was at her locker first thing in the morning. Stiles did a full-body spasm against against the metal and took in a deep breath. None of the passersby noticed"Jesus, Lydia! You scared me half to death!" she said, adjusting her shirt and righting herself."Not the point, Stiles. Now, where have you been?" Lydia repeated, fixing her best friend with her signature hard look. Reflexively, she had been avoiding her because of the kiss, and Lydia had an uncanny ability to tell if something had happened. Stiles sighed. Hard.

"I haven't been anywhere, Lydia. I've just been busy at home." Lydia scoffed."Stiles, you'd do anything to get out of the house most days. Anything for you to avoid doing reports with your father." Stiles laughed, and ran her hand through her hair."You're right," she said. "But that doesn't mean I can't help him sometimes. Also, I've been going to the library." Lydia gave her a strange look."When do you ever go to the library? You're more of an Internet researcher," she said, raising a perfect eyebrow. Stiles shrugged, and moved off down the corridor after slamming her locker shut. Lydia followed quickly after her, teetering slightly on her wedged heels. "Why would you go to a library?""Maybe I fancied a change of scene?" Stiles suggested, sarcastically. Lydia snorted."You hate change, Stiles," she said. "You almost attacked Mr Harris when he changed the grade boundaries!""He dropped me to a B! I had an almost perfect score!" Stiles defended, bottom lip dropping. Lydia rubbed her arm in mock consolation. "Anyway, libraries don't have the annoying adverts that pop up and play obnoxious music when you can't find the tab." Lydia laughed loudly at that as they walked into their History classroom.---()---Stiles' faithful Roscoe spluttered into the library's parking lot, engine purring, and then ticking over in an almost sickly splutter. Stiles hit the steering wheel in frustration. She didn't have the money to get it fixed; she guessed it was the damn carburettor. Grabbing her satchel, she slipped herself out and jogged for the steps that were sat between two white columns to the main door. Somewhere in her stomach, something was doing backflips at the thought of seeing that cheeky, black-haired boy again. She didn't know what affected her so deeply about him. Yeah, she was generally a little bit awkward around boys; nervous babbling, hiding her face with her hair, and generally letting Lydia take the lead if she'd introduced them. But this boy was different. She could've said 'special' if she wanted to go for the whole-hog Love Actually moment. She'd been able to talk to this guy as if she'd known him forever, or a long period of time, at least. She strolled past the elderly librarian, opting for the classic move of keeping her face hidden with hat. She'd become quite partial to the black trilby she'd bought as part of her highway man costume for Jackson- one if the co-captains of the lacrosse team-'s Halloween party the previous year. Tugging the viser down, she pulled it into a jaunty angle, hiding enough of her face so that the librarian wouldn't recognize her.She was within the adult literature section in seconds, noticing that the students' area was devoid of life and running for the books she was seeking. There was no sign of the boy yet. Pulling out some familiar black-covered books she recognised from last visiting the section, she made her way back down to the main level, looking for an indiscreet place to sit. She backed herself up against a tall bookcase of self-help books, pointedly trying to ignore the softly weeping woman who was reading a worn out paperback. Must've been a best seller. Flicking through the book, her sharp eyes- so used to skim reading- fell upon a few clusters of words that looked exactly like what she wanted. Leaning back, she read.
She opened her mouth to him, allowing him to drink her in. She tasted of spice, woman, and sex. His response to her was primal and fierce...Then, in their small pocket of privacy, he devoured her. She leaned into him, moulding her thighs against his. She moaned into his mouth and he cupped her sweet, soft ass in his hands, lifting her so he could rub his erection against her. "Is it good? Do you like it?"
Stiles pulled a face. "No, not really," she muttered to herself, skipping ahead a few pages. Finding a new cluster of words, she rearranged herself so she was a little more comfortable.
He moaned and lifted her off her feet to set her on top of the marble counter. Then his moan turned into a rumbling growl when she's lid her long bare legs around his hips and pulled his hard cock against her wet core...
Stiles felt her face grow a little hot, and adjusted her bra straps. The added sensation of feeling them slipping on her skin was a little too much.
His hands slid between her and the cool marble of the counter to cup her butt. "Ah, gods! I think you've bespelled me. You're so sweet and soft. Let me taste you, Pea. I want to taste you." He finished with a moan."Jesus Christ," Stiles muttered under her breath, fingers tracing her lips. If anyone said that to her, well, she'd jump up on that counter as if she had rockets for feet, modesty and reason be damned. By the end of the extract, Stiles was fanning herself with her hat, puffing out her cheeks."This sounds like something you'd like," a voice on the other side of the bookcase said, and Stiles jumped slightly. There was a slight cough before the voice began reading,
"Would you do something for me, Phoebus?" "Anything within my power," he said, solemnly. "Would you take me back to my room and make love to me?" she asked breathlessly. "It would be my great honour, sweet Pamela," he said, and he bent to kiss her upturned lips...
Derek could hear the blood rush to the surface of the girl's skin, and he smelt the faint traces of arousal in the air around them. He rolled his way around to the other side of the bookcase so he could see the girl. She had her legs pulled up, book open and resting on her knees. The red t-shirt he'd last seen her in was replaced by a plain white camisole, exposing a generous amount of pale, freckled skin and sharp collarbone. "Like that?" he asked, smirking. The girl scoffed and looked down, her smile irrepressible and genuine."Not too bad, but still not enough action for me," she replied, shifting her shoulders against the jutting books. Derek folded himself down next to her, stretching his legs out and flicking ahead a few pages."Not enough action for you, or your research?" he asked, and Stiles huffed a laugh."Touché," she replied. "Oh, and FYI- they're the same thing." She stuck her tongue out at the end and Derek laughed, thumbing the corner of the page he was on."Ok, what about this?" He asked, dramatically clearing his throat. Stiles twisted a hand into her hair and rested her cheek on her knees, twisting her head so she could watch the boy, a small smile curving her lips. The boy's eyes met hers quickly before going back to the paper. "He kissed her, wanting to take his time to taste her thoroughly now that they were finally alone, but when she moaned into his mouth he bent and cupped her well-rounded buttocks and lifted her, so that the core of her pressed firmly against his arousal. She moved restlessly against him and with a gasp he broke the kiss, struggling for control. 'I'm losing my mind with desire for you,' he moaned as her tongue and lips made a hot trail down the side of his neck..." When the boy began to speak as Apollo, his voice became a little deeper, a little more husky, and Stiles wasn't ashamed to admit that a stranger was turning her on more than a story. Derek could smell how aroused she was, and he'd be lying if he said it wasn't calling to his wolf. "That was better," the girl finally choked out, rubbing her cheeks in a vain attempt of erasing her blush. Derek smirked."Don't you find it a little weird?" he asked, placing the book down on the floor in front of them. The girl immediately picked it up and continued reading, skimming."What?" Stiles mumbled, turning the page, chewing on her full bottom lip. Derek couldn't help but stare."That we're reading erotica to each other and we don't even know each other's names?" he said, and Stiles stopped reading, looking at him with curious brown eyes."Then tell me what your name is," she said, closing the book and leaning back."It's Derek," he replied, and raised an eyebrow."Are you serious?" she asked, and Derek nodded, a little confused. Stiles bit back a laugh."What?" Derek asked, sounding a little indignant, and an even amount more offended."It's just that I imagined you with a different name, something less adorkable than Derek. Like...Miguel or Luke," Stiles said shrugging, wiping her eye and really hoping she hadn't smudged the mascara."'Adorkable'? You think my name is 'adorkable'?" Derek asked, a grin stretching across his lips, and Stiles couldn't help but smile back. She nodded and Derek laughed. "Tell me what your name is?""Stiles," she said after a moment, flicking her tongue out to wet her bottom lip."That has got to be one of the coolest names ever," Derek said, and Stiles smiled, hiding behind her hair."It's just a nickname," she said. "No one can pronounce my real name- not even me!" They were still giggling about it, trying different variations of pronunciations when a new voice cut into their little world."Derek! There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere and you know mum'll be pissed if we're late home again for dinner and- oh, hi Stiles," a long-haired brunette said, stopping mid explanation and offering Stiles a small smile."Hey Cora," she replied, raising a hand in greeting. Derek looked between his sister and Stiles, brow furrowed."You know each other?" he asked."Yeah, Stiles is my biology partner," Cora explained, holding out a hand to her brother to help him up. That's why Stiles looked familiar to him. They all went to the same school.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lydia left Stiles laughing at her locker before moving off to her own further down the hall. Stiles quickly lost sight of her in the throng of people, so focused on the dial of her lock, twisting and turning it with little clicks. Pulling open the door, she was suddenly attacked with a fluttering piece of paper as it fell free of the metal. Curious, she picked it up from the tiled floor and unfolded it, the free paper cracking under her fingers. She felt her eyes go wide she she read the words-
I'm losing my mind with desire for you
Her cheeks quickly set on fire as she shoved the note in her looking, around to see if anyone saw it. Nothing was out of the ordinary. "I see you got my note then?" a voice behind her asked, and Stiles whipped round, pressing herself against the lockers. Derek stood behind her, rucksack slung over one green-shirted shoulder. It was left undone, revealing a grey muscle shirt and tanned skin."Derek!" she said, surprised. "What're you doing here? I'm not supposed to meet you at the library until later." Derek shrugged and fingered his bag strap."When I first saw you, I thought I recognized you but I couldn't remember where. Then you met Cora when she came to get me, an she said you were her biology partner. I put the two together and came to the conclusion that I saw you at school," Derek explained. Stiles nodded her head, impressed."That makes perfect sense," she said, "However, that doesn't explain why you're leaving dirty notes in my locker!" She brandished the note in front of him, and Derek smirked."It was a quote from yesterday!" he reasoned."Ah yes, how can I forget that? You reading erotica to me before I even knew your name," Stules replied, turning around to rummage in her messy lockers for her English books."How else do you get a girl's attention?" he asked, lips tugging upwards at the corners. Stiles turned her head slowly, a small smirk on her face."Was that what you were tying to do?" she asked."What did you think I was doing?" he asked. Stiles shrugged."Seducing the middle-aged lady sitting across from us?" she suggested, and Derek laughed. Stiles decided right then that she liked that sound; husky, but sweet at the same time, with just the right amount humour. Derek heard her heart beat a little faster. Just then, the bell rang, signalling the start of the last lesson. The two of them looked awkwardly at each other, Stiles rubbing the back of her neck. "Guess I'll see you later?" she asked, trying to fill the awkward silence that was their personal bubble. Students bustled past, but no one noticed them.Derek nodded and have her a small smile. "Guess I will," he replied. He reached out a hand and rubbed her a little on her arm, the skin beneath his fingers tingling, absorbing his scent quickly. Stiles blushed bright red. "See ya later," he said before walking off, heading in the direction of the locker rooms. Stiles looked after him."Who was that guy?" someone asked behind her. Stiles turned around and smiled at Jackson. He smiled down at her and wrapped his arms around her. Stiles reciprocated, hugging her friend close."He was just some guy. Didn't know the way to the locker rooms, so I just told him," Stiles replied, wrapping her arm around Jackson's waist as they walked down the corridor towards their classroom."New guy?" he asked."Assume so," she said, shrugging. They disentangled themselves before walking into the classroom, trying not to inadvertently spite Lydia with their closeness.---()---Peter's nose twitched as his class filed into the classroom, the usual smells of aftershave, floral shampoo and general teenage arousal not covering the scent of his own family. He had no classes with his nephew and niece, so why could he smell Derek? He paused his writing on the chalk board, hand hovering as he looked over both of his shoulders. No sign of his nephew anywhere. His eyes fell on Stiles in the back row, and he tried to pull them away, but couldn't. She was smiling at the boy sitting in front of her- Jackson, Peter believed his name to be-, who'd tipped his head back so he could look at her. He watched her flick his nose playfully with a blue nail, and Jackson's jaw bone bobbed as he laughed. At the desk beside Stiles, Lydia watched the boy with a fiery gaze. From gossip Peter had overheard from various students conversing too loudly, Jackson and Lydia had had a brief, but passionate, relationship the previous year, despite both of them being close to Stiles. Apparently the split hadn't been a clean one, and now Stiles had to split her time between her best friends. It was almost like a divorced-parents plan."Alright, class! Settle down, if you please," he called, clapping his hands once and commanding attention. He got it. "Can anyone tell me what comparative writing is?" he asked, and a few students raised their hands- predominantly the female demographic-, others keeping theirs down. He noticed the one person in the room he wanted an answer from didn't raise her hand, or didn't seem to be paying attention. She was flicking through her school-issued copy of Dracula, dog-earring pages the pages that he'd marked on the board."Miss Stilinski?"---()---Stiles rubbed at the corner of Derek's note with her thumb over and over again, weakening the paper, a small smile twinging on her lips. She felt a little out of it after seeing Derek in the corridor. She'd begun to associate him with the library- a world outside school, making him one of her very few friends from that world. Seeing him surrounded by other teenagers instead of books made him look out of place. Also, the note he left her- was it an attempt at flirting? He did say he was trying to catch her attention. Or was it just a joke between friends? Their little secret?Fingers tapping on her desk made her look up, breaking out of her mental triad, and she saw Jackson pointing at Mr Hale, who was looking directly at her. "Sorry, what?" she asked, just realising that Mr Hale had spoken to her. A few students tittered, but quickly hushed."I asked you what comparative writing was," he said. "Care to tell us?" Stiles sighed."It's where you take a major theme or character from one piece of work and then transfer it to one of your own creation, centering it on that specific theme or character," she described, sounding almost bored. Mr Hale's lips, as well as Jackson's and Lydia's, twitched in pride."A perfect defenition," he said, turning back to the board. This action made him miss the slight blush that covered Stiles cheeks. "Keeping Miss Stilinski's defenition in mind, I want you to pick one of these four extracts-" he tapped each of the numbers on the board "-and write a comparative piece, choosing a main character from the extract." The entire class groaned, bar Stiles, who was trying to hide her excitement. Peter didn't miss the glint in her eye. Jackson tipped his head back to look at his friend as the entire class began talking, reading extracts and trading ideas."Stiiiiiiiiiles..." he said, putting on a pleasing tone of voice."I'm not writing your paper for you, Jacks," she said, cutting him off, and Jackson's lips pouted, big blue eyes turning sad. "But I'll let you borrow my notes," she said, giving in. Jackson beamed. Lydia stared down at her desk, flicking through her book."You never let me borrow your notes," she grumbled, twisting a curl around her finger. Stiles reached across and covered Lydia's hand with hers."That's because you're too smart to need my notes and you're bound to find something wrong with them," Stiles teased, and a small smile erupted over Lydia's painted red lips. The noise around them died down when Mr Hale coughed to catch their attention."Now, who wants to read the first extract from Jonathan Harker's journal?" he asked, but this time, no one raised their hands. "What about you, Mr Whittemore? Your English accent is most amusing."--()---As the class left, the scent of his nephew became stronger. Peeling his eyes, he carefully watched each student that passed his desk through his lashes, taking an indiscreet sniff each time. When a short-haired brunette with whiskey eyes and a plaid shirt tied around her waist walked past, Peter was almost overwhelmed. Beneath the smells of heady perfume and Adderall, was Derek.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Derek found Stiles tucked up in a back corner of the library, on the edge of the children's section. Her knees were pulled up to her chin, arms circling around them while holding a book out. Her plush lips were set in a line, her gold eyes devouring each and every word. Derek had the feeling that if she was a wolf, her eyes would hardly change colour. She'd kicked her boots off, leaving her socked feet on display. His lips quirked as he saw her feet rubbing against each other in their lacrosse-printed covers. He slung his bag down on the floor beside her and sat down, resting a forearm on a raised knee, watching her for a few moments and enjoying their comfortable silence. They'd known each other for four weeks now and, between notes in lockers ("Stiles! You can't write things like that!" "Why not?" "Because even E.D. James wouldn't write that!" "...was it that bad?") and funny faces in corridors, they'd grown comfortable not to talk to each other for a while. Stiles didn't even seem to notice him. Derek raised an eyebrow.
"Am I disturbing you?" he asked, tilting his head to look at Stiles, and he saw the corner of her mouth twitch. She turned the page, still not looking at him.
"No," she replied. "I have laser-like focus." A little smile curved over Derek's lips, and Stiles caught sight of it out the corner of her eye. "What...?" she asked, sounding weary.
"Nothin'," he replied, shrugging. Stiles cast him another sideways glance before turning back to her book, shuffling her knees closer to her chest and resting her chin on them. "Are you sure?" he asked, and Stiles' eyes stopped moving across the page, brow furrowing.
"Sure about what?" she asked. Derek shrugged, looking nonchalant.
"Y'know, that you've got 'laser-like focus'." He made air quotes around 'laser-like focus'. Stiles gave him a suspicious look, not missing the mischievous glint in his eye.
"Where is this going...?" she asked, cheeks turning pink, making her moles stand out. Derek chuckled slightly and shuffled closer. He could hear her pulse quicken slightly and breath come a little faster.
"I'm just saying...if you're bragging about it, have you ever tested it?" he asked, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear. Stiles shivered slightly under his touch.
"You're trying to scare me," Stiles said, not letting her eyes leave her book, afraid where they might go if they did. She heard Derek chuckle and she'd be lying if it didn't make her tremble. In a second, she felt warm breath on her ear.
"I'm trying to see if you have got laser-like focus," he said, voice hushed. "Don't you see? I'm trying to distract you." The scent of arousal in the air around them was thick, and Derek's wolf panted. His wolf eyes saw Stiles' bottom lip drop slightly , tongue wetting it, and her cheeks growing darker. Her eyelids closed over eyes with dilated pupils, almost shutting out all colour. "You see? You don't seem so focused right now," he whispered, bottom lip dragging slightly along the shell of Stiles' ear. Stiles tilted her head slightly, giving him more access, unknowingly baring her neck to the Wolf. A little squeak breached her lips, and Derek had to grit his teeth together as he dragged his lips so he could supress his growl. He could feel his scent seep through her skin, covering her like a blanket, marking her.
"How am I supposed to use my laser-like focus when you're doing that to me? I'm an inexperienced teenage girl trying to write erotica!" Stiles asked, eyes still closed and her head still tilted. Her breaths were coming out in soft pants, and Derek would've been lying if he said he didn't feel himself stirring. Her ear was so soft under his lips, teasing him as he teased her. He moved down to her earlobe and softly closed his lips, not catching it, and Stiles shivered.
Suddenly, beneath his lips, Stiles froze. Derek took no notice, still giving her ear and now the skin just beneath it gentle affection. Here, he could smell her perfume, the one that was distinctly Stiles' scent- clean linens, lemon, and peanut butter. "Derek," she whispered, head still turned to the side. Derek simply hummed against her skin. "Derek, you might wanna stop," she said, and Derek did, opening his eyes and looking at her in confusion. Her eyes were wide open, ear glistening slightly and a little red, teeth biting her bottom lip to stop a smile forming.
"Why?" he asked, mouth a little dry. Had he done something wrong? Had he gone too far? Was she ever going to speak to him again after this? It was then that he saw her hand making small, jabby, pointing movements in front of them. He turned his head and saw two small children, a little boy in dungarees and a little girl with bunches, staring at them, mouths open wide. The two pairs stared at each other for a few moments before Stiles raised a hand and waved.
"Hi there," Stiles said, voice shaking with laughter. Derek offered up a small smile, and the two children took off running, screaming quietly. The two teenagers stared after them before collapsing into laughing, Stiles biting down on her hand so she wasn't too loud. Derek's bright teeth flashed as Stiles watched him laugh, her fluttering a little and cheeks turning an even darker red. Yeah, she was so going as far to say that this boy was 'special'. Absinthe met whiskey, and they both looked at each other before Derek dropped his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck, looking decidedly bashful.
"So I guess I completely destroyed your laser-like focus?" he asked, and Stiles scoffed, crossing her legs and tipping her head back so it hit the shelf behind her. A hand came up and played with her ear, the one Derek had just been assaulting.
"I guess I shouldn't have bragged about that," Stiles said, scoffing slightly.
"Personally, I had quite a lot of fun destroying it," Derek commented, only to shoved at by a beaming Stiles.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Peter was sitting at the intricately-carved dining table in the Hale house, marking English essays with a red pen and a mug of coffee. Just as he finished one paper, he heard his oldest nephew return home, house keys clinking in the porcelain bowl by the front door. Derek walked in as he took a sip of coffee, backpack heavy with homework and slung over his shoulder. "Hello, Derek," he greeted, trying to keep his time civil as his nose was bombarded with the scent that filled the room. It was too familiar; a scent that was never supposed to be in the house. Beneath Derek's scent of Wolf and mint, was arousal and Stiles. Derek's smooth brow furrowed at the almost inaudible growl eminating from his uncle's chest."Where is everyone?" he asked, noticing the absence of most of his family."Your parents and Laura have gone to a meeting with another pack who're looking for safe passage; Athos has gone to visit his girlfriend; Emily went out shopping with some friends, and Cora's upstairs torturing her violin," Peter reeled off, slashing a few crosses across the paragraphs in front of him. Derek made a 'huh' sound before pulling out his homework and flipping through the pages of his Biology textbook. In the background, the two wolves could hear the sound of violin strings being bowed, and they both winced as a particularly sharp sound hit then eardrums. "And where've you been?" Peter asked. "School's been out for over an hour." His eyes caught the faint blush on Derek's cheeks, and the scent of arousal became a little stronger. "Was it a girl?""No!" Derek replied, guilty quick, and Peter gave him a mocking look."Now Derek," he chided. "I'm a werewolf, as you well know, and I can smell her scent on you. It's incredibly strong." The strength of Stiles' scent made his stomach twist into knots as he thought about what could've happened between them for it to be that strong. Derek sighed."Okay," he said, giving in. "I met a girl at the library and I think...I think I really like her." Derek's wolf hummed at the confession, a blissful smile across its grotesque face. Peter felt glad that his nephew had found someone real, not another piece of arm candy. However, the burning need to know if it was Stiles and not a fluke started to burn brighter in his chest. "We meet up there after school everyday and talk, and she's so different to all the other girls I see.""What's her name?" he asked, trying to sound like the cool uncle who he had been when he taught Derek to sneak out of the house undetected. However, the tension in the air around him was too taught to work with him. A little smile took over Derek's lips, giving him the complete of look of a teenager in love."Stiles," he said. "Her name's Stiles."---()---Peter's wolf snapped his jaws as the name left Derek's lips. He knew he couldn't mistake that scent; he'd gone to bed the night he kissed her with her scent on his skin and taste on her lips and it'd driven him almost insane with lust. He hadn't been sure if they'd just brushed past each other in the hall, of had actually met, but now he was feeling jealous towards his nephew- a very new thing. "That's an unusual name," he mused, and Derek chuckled."It's a nickname; her real name is practically unpronouncable," he explained, lips twitching as he remembered the conversation the two of them had the previous week and Derek had tried to pronounce it, with not much luck. He quickly scribbled something down in his notebook, shooting a glance at his textbook."It sounds vaguely familiar," Peter said, pretending to think aloud. "Well, i suppose it would with a name as unusual as that..." The fond gaze in Derek's eyes dimmed at the tone of his uncle's voice, making him feel slightly uncomfortable."I think I'm gonna go finish my homework in my room, it's kinda warm down here," he said cautiously, piling up his books. The two werewolves could both smell the unease of one another in the air, and it was fairl confusing to the younger. Peter didn't stop his nephew, and turned his head back to his papers as Derek's footsteps ascended the stairs. A few moments later and he heard his bedroom door slam shut, Cora's pitiful attempt at playing the violin being drowned out by AC/DC.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

This time, Derek found Stiles in the comfy chairs a little way away from the small cafe that was harboured in the back corner of the library. Her legs were stretched out beside her, taking up the entire expanse of the leather. The graphic t-shirt Derek had seen her in at school was now covered in a red hoodie, the hood pulled up, only revealing a few loose curls of hair out of the sides. She didn't even offer any verbal greeting when Derek picked up her legs off the sofa and slipped under them, laying them across his own. She looked up from the book she was skim reading with disinterest and offered him a smile. "You took your time," she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. School let out at half three, and it was already quarter past four."Sorry," Derek apologised. "Flat tyre kept me out of the race for a while." Stiles scoffed, and Derek watched her read; long tapered fingers flipping the page with finesse, whiskey eyes drowning every word like an alcoholic, white teeth teasing at her bottom lip, biting it a darker pink. He'd stopped trying to get over her oral fixation long ago. His sharp eyes caught sight of a spotty notebook on the coffee table in front of the sofa, the edges fringed with strips of pink Post-It notes. He'd noticed it the few times he'd been with Stiles and she'd had a pile of adult literature beside her, scribbling furiously on the pages with a biro. Stiles watched the direction of his gaze over the top of her book, and her cheeks flushed a little. "Can I read it?" Derek asked, reaching for it, but Stiles' trainered foot left Derek's leg and landed on it, narrowly missing the fingertips of Derek's grabby hands."Not a chance, Der," she said, eyes twinkling and a small smile twitching on her plump lips. She was the only person to call him 'Der'. Derek leaned in a little closer to her, almost crowding her against the arm of the couch, his face only a few inches from Stiles'. The girl's eyes flickered down to his lips briefly, a tongue flicking out to wet her own, eyes tracing the strange green-grey colour of her partner's."Why?" Derek asked, voice going slightly husky, and Stiles' throat went dry."S'not ready yet," she said weakly, shrugging. Derek pulled away a little and chuckled, and Stiles almost whined in disappointment."Then I won't read it," Derek said, raising both of his hands and bringing them down on Stiles' legs, palms cupping the curve of her lower legs, and settling back against the sofa. Stiles gave him a small, grateful smile, letting out a sigh of breath. She reached for a small stack of three books on the floor beside her and swung her legs off Derek, missing the feeling of warmth on the backs of them and narrowly missing the glass coffee table."Will you keep an eye on my stuff for me while I check these out?" she asked, standing. Derek gave her a nod and she walked off in the direction of the desk, swaying her head a little as she listened to music only she could hear inside her head. When she was out of sight, Derek waited for a few seconds before shuffling up the couch and opening the notebook on a marked page.
Blunt fingertips bit into sharp hipbones, soft pale skin being marked by red circles from hard thumbs. Dean breathed against Stella's lips, parting them before sucking the flavour out of her bottom lip. The delicious whimper she let out, gold eyes half-closed, made Dean encase her entire mouth with his, willing her with his body to make more of those sounds. One particular sharp nip to her top lip made her arch her back slightly, a little yip escaping her and her still-encased breasts pressing against his bare chest. Blue nails dragged down his muscled back, digging into the tattoo of a triskele between his shoulderblades.

"You give me anymore and I will never be able to stop," he breathed against her neck, releasing her red lips for a moment, breathing heavily on her collarbone. Stella's hands dragged up his back until they were slightly tangled in the black hair at the base of his tanned neck. She pulled slightly so he looked up at her. Her eyes were blown wide, cheeks reddened and her lips even more. The stench of arousal around them roiled like living shadows.

"I want to give you everything," she breathed, and an almost animalistic growl left his mouth before he attacked her neck, marking her so good that she wouldn't be able to hide the marks with school girl tricks of foundation and powder...
Derek could feel his own arousal grow with the growl of his Wolf, the description spinning images in his mind that seemed almost too mature for a seventeen year-old boy. The 'gold eyes' reminded him of Stiles, images of her sprawled on a bed, lips bitten red by him, brown curls tangled and draping down her neck. He snapped the notebook shut and shuffled his way back down the couch, palming his semi hard enough to hurt, trying to get rid of it as quickly as possible. Arousal and bashfulness burned through his cheeks."I thought I heard her say you couldn't read it," a familiar voice said behind him, and he flipped around, eyes flashing gold at his uncle's back as he examined the bookshelf behind them."What're you doing here?" he asked, eyes turning back to their usual colour and the threat of fangs disappearing. Peter turned around and shrugged, talking slow steps towards the couch. Derek shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with his uncle being in a space he liked to refer to 'his and Stiles' special place'."There's a limit to our families library, Derek, if you hadn't noticed. I fancied looking at some new material," Peter said casually, resting his hands on the back of the couch, leaning down. His blue eyes glinted mischeviously."Hey, Derek, I found this-" Stiles' incoming voice was stopped short when she saw Peter with Derek. Derek was almost shocked with the sudden wave of nervousness and fear that rolled off his friend, masking the scent of arousal that still clung in the air. Peter gave her a smile."Hello, Stiles," he said in his best teacher voice, and Stiles choked.---()---The book she'd been holding slipped out of her hand, hitting the floor with a ruffled thud, and she suddenlt couldn't move. Her sentence caught in her throat, the sight of Derek and Peter together, conversing like they knew each other ricocheting around her brain. "Wh-what's happening?" she asked, voice dry, heart plumetting. Derek looked at her with wide eyes, almost worried."How do you know Stiles?" she heard him ask, Peter still smirking slightly."I know Stiles very well, Derek. She's my best English student," he said, looking down at the boy before turning his gaze to Stiles. "Isn't that right?"Stiles said nothing to him, instead turning her gaze to Derek. "Derek, how'd you know Mr Hale?" she asked, and she was pretty sure the boy would be able to hear heartbeat skyrocket from where he was sitting. Derek's brow furrowed."He's my uncle," he said simply, and Stiles mouth dropped open, a sick feeling racing through her veins."Oh my God," she said, bringing a hand up to her mouth, as if trying to keep something in. She made a quick dash for her bag, rushing past her dropped book, before heading for the main doors in a quick walk; almost a run. Derek looked after her, confused by the choking cloud of fear and sickened surprise she left behind.---()---When Derek looked behind the sofa to speak to his uncle, he saw he was gone in his typical werewolf-style way. He then notcied Stiles' notebook on the table and picked it up, testing the weight in his hand before heading out after his friend, grabbing his backpack as he went. Running down the main stairs, he burst through the main doors and into the parking lot. Ahead of him, he could see Stiles' blue Jeep still parked, and Stiles pacing by the side of it, hands jiggling and shaking her head as she talked to herself. He made his way for her, and she didn't look up until he was right in front of her. When she saw him, she started to back up for the door, but Derek held up both hands in surrender, the notebook in one. Stiles saw it and blushed furiously."I just came to give this back to you..." he said, holding it out. Stiles snatched it from him with a jittery hand. "...and to find out what all that was about." Stiles, in that moment, reminded him of a startled rabbit, like the ones he chased through the preserve during the full moon."It's nothing," Stiles said shakily, stuffing the notebook in her bag. Derek snorted."That wasn't nothing, Stiles," he said. "You looked almost scared." "I was surprised, that's all. You never said Mr Hale was your uncle," she said, looking directly at him with flaming eyes. Derek raised his eyebrows."It never seemed relevant!" he defended"Well it was relevant to me!" Stiles said, pointing at her chest."Why?" Derek asked. Stiles didn't answer him. She just ran her hands through her hair, messing it up. "Stiles, why does it matter?" he pressed, and Stiles let out a frustrated shout."How am I supposed to be able to kiss the nephew of the first man who ever kissed me when he also happens to be my English teacher?" Stiles said, eyes brimming with tears. Derek stood there dumb-founded. Peter kissed Stiles? He was her first kiss? The Wolf inside him began to howl in annoyance, snapping its teeth at the sight of Stiles' tears and the fact that Peter had been there before him."You kissed Peter?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice steady, and Stiles nodded stiltedly. "Did you want to?" She nodded again, a few tears tracking down her cheeks. "Do you want to now?" Derek tried to get her to look at him, but she refused to every time he made it into her line of sight."I never want to see him again," she said, turning around and opening the door for the Jeep's driver's side. Derek could smell her shame and embarrassment, it enveloping her like a shroud made of metal."Do you want to see me again?" he blurted out, and Stiles paused her movements. Derek heard her heartbeat stutter and her swallow heavily."I don't know," she said quietly, before climbing into the cab and slamming the door shut. The engine started up a few seconds later, and Derek moved out of the way so he wouldn't be run over. He watched her leave quickly, pretty sure she was breaking some form of traffic law as she sped down the street. Inside of himself, he could feel anger boiling up and his wolf begin to rage. He bunched up his hands as he felt like his control slipping, claws digging into his palms until he felt blood begin to seep. Pain keeps you human he thought, repeating it like a mantra until he grasped his control once more. Once he was a little calmer, he remembered what Stiles said- How am I supposed to be able to kiss the nephew of the first man who ever kissed me. The nephew. Derek was the nephew of Peter, the first man who ever kissed her. Stiles wanted to kiss him. The thought made his heart swell, but it didn't quench the desire for revenge on his uncle.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Peter had mentally prepared himself for the inevitable verbal onslaught his nephew was going to bombard him with, but he hadn't prepared himself for him to launch at him in Beta mode, gold eyes glowing, claws extended and fangs glistening. The wolf snarled and Peter slammed him to the floor with a hand around its throat, blue eyes flashing. The teenager hacked a cough, chest rising stiltedly under Peter's forearm. "Why? Why did you do it?" Derek snarled, scrabbling at the hand around his neck. The anger flowed off him in a red mist, surrounding them."Because we both wanted it and I wasn't going to deny her," Peter growled back. Quick as a flash, Peter found himself to be back-to-back with the expensive rug, Derek perched above him as his leg had lashed out and and knocking the older wolf beneath him, karate-style."She's underaged!" he almost yelled. "You should've had better control!" Peter had no answer for that, because he knew his nephew was right. But Stiles had smelt so untouched and willing that his wolf had wanted to take. "How are the rest of our pack supposed to hold up our family name with an example like you?""Being half-wolf half-human is not easy, Derek. Control can be taken from either side," Peter grunted, pushing at the hands in his body and sending Derek toppling, landing on his backside. He was breathing hard, shifting back until his gold eyes were the last thing to go. "Then why didn't you just be a human?" he hissed, staring his uncle down."Because my human wanted it to!" Peter shot back, pale eyes as hard as bulletproof glass. He watched hurt cloud Derek's eyes as he sucked in a breath. He wished for Derek to understand that his wolf's urge to claim was a strong one, but he knew the underlying fact that just Peter wanted her too hurt. He could smell Derek's distress grow thicker and he sighed. "I'm sorry, Derek, that this happened. The Universe is a cruel thing sometimes, and putting us all together like that..." He scratched his jaw and got to his feet. Derek followed suit and ran a hand through his hair, brow hard and eyebrows drawn together."Are you sure it's the Universe that's cruel, and not you?" he asked before storming from the room, a growl building in his chest. The front door rattled on its hinges as it slammed after him, and Peter ran a hand over his goatee, standing there for a moment in the unusually-quite house. His reverie was broken by the sound of keys turning in the front door lock. The scent of his of his cousin Emily enveloped him when she swooped in to place a kiss on his cheek, hands filled with shopping bags. She followed him to the kitchen-diner, setting the table and relaying gossip to him as he prepared the family dinner (it had been Talia's turn the previous night, and she'd still left washing up in the sink).When the rest of the family arrived and sat down for dinner, Cora stared at the her brother's empty place, a funny look on her face. Peter stared down at his food to avoid his sister's Alpha glare. It wasn't until hours later, when all the Hales were in their respective beds, that Peter heard the last heartbeat of the pack re-enter the house. Soft footsteps padded up the stairs, muffled by the carpet, and paused softly outside his door for a few heartbeats before moving on. The scent of the preserve, of sweat, of hurt, seeped under his door and cultivated Peter's guilt. ---()---When Derek woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was wrinkle his nose at the smell he was giving off. The bottom of his duvet was streaked with mud from his trainers and his shirt was crinkled in places where sweat had dried. He tugged both offending items off, shivering at the cold air coming through his open window. Throwing his shirt in the direction of his hamper, he trundled his way to the bathroom across the hall, the one he shared with the other men of the family. The rest of his pack were still asleep- they liked to lie-in- but light shone from the crack under Peter's door. He stared at it for a moment, before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind him with a flick of his wrist. He brushed his teeth as he waited from the shower to warm up, his lazy brain sifting through images of Stiles and how he could talk to her. He couldn't just walk up to her and talk; she'd shut him down and run away without thinking. He filed through every memory, every blurb they laughed about together, every cupcake and notebook they'd shared. At the thought of the notebooks, his mind left-turned to the extract he'd read in Stiles' notebook from the day before and the images that came with it; the sensation of Stiles' nails in his back, gold eyes shining, the heat of their skin against one another's, Stiles' skin under his fingertips as he brushed away an eyelash. Only then did he realise he was sporting a semi through his jeans that wasn't going to go away with a vicious palming. Letting out a long exhale, he stripped off his muddy jeans and boxers, the warm steam in the air wrapping around him.As soon as the hot spray hit him, he groaned quietly and wrapped a hand around his semi-hard cock. A few pulls later and the hot water had it standing straight, a tiny bead of pre-cum dotting the end. He swiped a thumb over it on an upstroke, and he shivered slightly, his Wolf doing the same and panting. More images of Stiles filled his head and his Wolf howled at the stimulation from his soapy hand, pre-cum leaking liberally from him (one of the many perks of being a werewolf, Athos had told him after a particularly awkward conversation). He pumped faster as he though of him and Stiles lying on his bed together, wrapped around one another while grinding and nipping at each other. The final fantasy of Stiles' cumming around his fingers was too much, and he nearly bit a chunk of of his free hand where he'd placed it in his mouth to stop any noise as he came, hard. Sparks flashed behind his closed eyelids and he slumped against the cool tiled wall, legs a little wobbly. A shaky sigh left his lips, his Wolf doing the same before slumping down with a contented smile on its grotesque face. He scooped up the mess on his chest and held his hand under the water, watching his cum disappear down the drain in pearly stripes. His mind was fuzzy from pleasure, and he only remembered cumming that hard from two years before over an ex-girlfriend. He'd wanted someone special, and she'd wanted someone to show off. Only then did he realise what he had to do to get Stiles back.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Derek was poised around the corner from Stiles' locker, fiddling nervously with his backpack strap. He watched Stiles amble down the corridor, her arm around the waist of an athletic blond boy who was making her laugh. Derek's Wolf growled at their close proximity, but Derek shushed it when he realised it was the school's lacrosse captain, Jackson. He remembered Stiles telling him stories from when they were little and all they did was get into trouble. He held his breath as Jackson leant against the cool metal and Stiles opened her locker, fiddling with her books. His sharp eyes caught her stuff a slip of folded paper up her sleeve, not even bothering to read it, and his brow furrowed. His heart hit the floor with the sound of the locker slamming shut, and the two friends walked away, footsteps in tandem. Derek let out a low growl and stomped off to his class.---()---Stiles only just stopped herself from entering her fifth period English classroom. Around her, students pushed past so they could grab seats in their favourite teacher's classroom. Jackson still had his hand in hers and notcied her lack of movement, turning around with confused blue eyes. "You ok, Stiles? C'mon," he said, tugging on her hand a little to bring her closer. His friend's face was paler then usual, and she was biting her lips into a dangerous red colour. Over Jackson's shoulder, Stiles caught a glimpse of Mr Hale, who was talking to another student. The student was beaming at him, eyes wanton, and it made Stiles want to gag."I'm not feeling too good right now, Jacks. I'm gonna go to the nurse," she said, letting go of her friend's hand and backing out of the doorway."You want me to go with you?" he asked, and Stiles shook her head."Nah, I'm good," she said, and Jackson nodded. "I'll see ya later." Jackson gave her a small wave before disappearing among the students. Stiles headed back down the hallway, now an empty one where muffled voices filtered through closed classroom doors and walls. Late afternoon light was starting to filter through the windows, and her trainers squeaked against the tiles. Her hand slowly moved to the fabric of her sleeve, where she poked at the folded piece of paper hidden within. She'd recognised it immediatley- it was the type of paper in Derek's notebook than he used to write his homework on when they were at the library. She unfolded it, enjoing the sound of her fingertips against the rough, ripped edges of the note. In the middle, ignoring all the printed lines, was Derek's cursive writing,
I'm losing my mind with desire for you
Stiles felt her skin heat up, right from her collarbone and all the way up to the tips of her slightly-pointed ears. She recognised the quote, but couldn't figure out why Derek would write that. Was it a tease? An apology? A truth? Her heart pounded a little faster and her fingers tightened on the thick paper. Behind her, she heard a door squeak on its hinges and a few footsteps fall. She looked over her shoulder, just to check it wasn't a teacher.---()---Derek's hands were still wet when he left the bathroom, wiping them on his t-shirt and leaving cold traces against his skin. His hands froze slightly as a cool breeze from a propped open fire escape washed through the hallway. With it, came a distinct scent he thought he'd never have the pleasure to smell that close to again. Looking down the darkened hallway, he saw a figure, half-turned towards him. In their hand, Derek saw a flattened piece of paper, and he looked in their eyes. Wide whiskey eyes stared back at him, and his jaw felt the force of gravity. His heart sped up, and he was pretty sure Stiles would've been able to hear it. His Wolf pawed at his insides, trying to get closer to her, but he held back, clenching his abdomen beneath his clothes. The look in Stiles' eyes was almost disbelieving, mixed with confusion. It physicaly hurt him. he started to take a step forward, but Stiles took two steps back, crumpling the note in her hands and dropping it with a rustling thud before walking quickly for the main door at the end of the hall. Through the glass, Derek saw her run down the steps, through the car park, and out of sight. The Wolf whined pitifully and looked up at Derek with sad, gold eyes.Go after her it said, mimicking his voice perfectly."I can't," Derek said into open air, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, catching the last few whisps of Stiles' scent.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Derek didn't directly respond to the knock on his bedroom door, but he did growl lowly into his duvet. He could smell the heavy scent of his mother's perfume as the door opened and it felt like a warm blanket was being wrapped around him. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor of his room for a few seconds, and then the mattress beside him sank as Talia sat down. A warm hand between his shoulder blades made him turn over and look up into his mother's eyes, that were glowing red slightly in the dim. "You alright, hun?" she asked softly, and Derek let his face fall back into his pillow.
"No," the little wolf groaned, voice muffled. A soothing hand ran through his hair, and he leaned back into his Alpha's touch.
"I'm guessing it's girl problems?" Derek turned his head, one green eye narrowed in her direction and staring.
"How did you know?" he asked, in teenage bemusement.
"Because I'm your mother." Derek scoffed at the answer, Talia smiling at the look on his face. It was the happiest she'd seen her son in days.
"That's not a valid reason, Mum."
"Ok, maybe it's because you smell depressed and I can smell a girl on the t-shirt you're wearing, but can't smell her anywhere else?" she offered, and Derek grunted, a hand absently smoothing over his t-shirt. He could smell Stiles too, and it gave him a little comfort, but he knew the smell would eventually fade. "What happened with her, pup?"
"I really don't know, Mum. I've tried to fix it, but she won't listen to me. She keeps shutting me out," he said, squeezing his eyes shut. His Wolf whimpered, and Talia's heard it. She toed off her expensive heels and tucked her legs under herself. Derek budged up and ran a hand over his hair, flattening it against his forehead, making him look younger than his 17 years.
"Why won't she listen to you? You got any idea how to get her back?" Talia asked, wrapping her arms around her pup's shoulders. Derek shrugged.
"I have no idea, and she likes all these funny romatic things...like in the movies Emily likes to watch, where the guy does something ridiculous and gets a kiss out of it in the end. I left her notes in her locker with things written on them that mean something to us," he said. He looked up at his mother, eyes burning a bright gold. "I don't want to lose those, Mum. She means too much to me." Talia helped him into her lap as he cried into her shoulder, like he used to when he was little and scared. Both their hearts sank.
"I'm happy you've got someone now," she said softly into his hair, stroking it gently. Then a thought hit her, and she stopped stroking. "You said she likes silly, romantic things, right?" Derek looked up at her, eyes still wet and brow furrowed, and nodded. "Then I have the perfect way to get her back."
---()---
The next day, Derek avoided Stiles like the plague, which was either than he thought it was gonna be. After all, Stiles wasn't even in the school. Derek considered going to one of Stiles' friends, but they probably wouldn't know who he was. He'd spent every class trying to come up with the perfect opening line. Being a werewolf meant a lot of things about him were hightened, like his sense of smell and his hearing. His imagination, however, was not. He almost considered calling Athos for help during his lunch break, since he hadn't exactly been good with the ladies before he found his girlfriend, but he didn't think the elder wolf would appreciate that.
So now, following his mother's idea, he was straddling his motorbike outside the Stilinski household in the pouring rain, his supplies tied to the back of his seat, and a handful of small pebbles. Judging by the light coming through the blue net curtains in the upper right window, Stiles had holed herself up in her room. The heavy rain was loud hitting the tarmac around him, but if he focused his hearing, he could hear the sound of 5 Seconds of Summer blasting through speakers, and the sound of pages sliding against each other as they were turned. Letting out a puff of breath, he grabbed the large signs off the back of his bike, knocked the stand down with his foot, and made his way towards the front lawn. As soon as he touched it, his Wolf shyed away, whimpering. Rolling the pebbles between his fingers, he picked one and through it with dead accuracy at the window. It hit it right in the centre. He waited for a few seconds, squinting through the rain for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. The rain was beginning to soak through his henley, to his skin, making him shiver despite his high core tempterature. He threw another one and thought he heard the pop music quieten slightly. Optimisticall, he threw another one, and thie time the music stopped completely. A shadow moved behind the netting, and Derek suddenly felt sick in his stomach. Swallowing heavily, he threw his last pebble, and almost immediately the window opened.
He saw Stiles head poke out, hair a curly mess around her head and dressed in a too-big white graphic t-shirt. "Whoever the hell that is would you stop that? You know this is the Sheriff's house, right dumbass?!"
---()---
Stiles had been lying on her bed, flipping through the final transcript of her erotica novel, 5 Seconds of Summer blasting from her speakers, when she thought she heard a strange tapping sound. She wrote it off as the wind; a crazy rain storm was picking up outside and she pitied anyone who was out there right then. She hadn't gone to school that day- she'd gotten ready, said goodbye to her father before he left, before driving off and doing a circuit of the town before coming straight back home to find her dad had to gone to work. Just how she'd wanted it. She should've had fifth period English that day, but the thought of all the other girls flirting with Peter- dammit, Mr Hale- while she was there made her feel sick. Just being in the same room as that man made her want to hurl. It had taken her all but three weeks from dreaming about him seducing her to his bed, to rather tying him to it and burning it. She wasn't going to see the man again until she'd made her peace with Derek. He deserved better than her, better than having someone unload their feelings on him while confessing they'd made out with their uncle. She'd told him she wanted to kiss him, and her skin burned at the memory.
There it was again. That single tapping noise against the glass of her window. Stretching for her stereo remote, she turned the volume down a little, straining her ears over the sound of guitars. Nothing but the sound of the wind howling outside. She flinched, ears still strained when the pebble hit her window; she saw the small grey object bounce off the glass. Hitting the pause button, she lifted herself off the bed, wary of what was happening. It was probably some idiots screwing around with her. Still staring at her window, she didn't flinch the next time another pebble hit. The whole thing was beginning to annoy her, so she reached for her window, pushing it up before leaning out and yelling,
"Whoever the hell that is would you stop that? You know this is the Sheriff's house, right dumbass?!"
Over the sound of the rain hitting the grass of her lawn, she heard a low chuckle, one that sounded all-too-familiar. "Derek?" she said, pushing the curls out of her face that were blocking her view. In the fading light of the day, she could see a figure in a grey henley standing on her front lawn, large blocks of white beside him on the soaking grass. If she hadn't know who it was, she would've felt the entire thing was a very creepy horror movie cliche. She leant against the windowsil as Derek reached down and picked up one of the blocks of white, holding it above his head. He didn't speak. Squinting, Stiles could only just make out what the sign said-

I don't care that you kissed my uncle

Stiles cheeks burned, but she said nothing. Derek dropped that sign over his shoulder and picked up a new one.

But I do care if I can't talk to you because of it

We've got too much to lose, and I don't want to lose you

Let me be your Dean, and everything will be alright

Can you let me in please? I'm a bit wet

Stiles burst out laughing at the last sign, heart completely melted and dripping through her ribs. She pushed herself away from the window and ran downstairs, thankful that her dad had the night shift. When she opened the door, she was suddenly struck with how cold it was. Not caring, though, she tiptoed her way across the wet grass barefoot, only wearing a pair of sleepshorts and her t-shirt. She rounded the corner of her house, stadning still when she saw Derek. The white signs littered the grass behind him, and his henley was now so wet that it was clinging to him in all the right places. She was vaguely aware of her own soaking wet clothing and cold skin, but she didn't care. She made her way over to him and proceeded to pummel his chest repeatedly.
"You absolute idiot! Did you really think this was a good idea- you standing out here in the pouring rain, outside my house and holding up signs? It'll be the death of you! And you're absolutely soaking and you're probably gonna end up with pneumonia or something, and-" she only stopped her tirade when she saw Derek's eyes dim, his heart sinking in his eyes. She suddenly didn't know what else to say, her obscene mouth jut hanging open, collecting a few raindrops.
---()---
"I guess I should probably go," Derek said, turning around to go collect the signs on the grass, but he stopped when Stiles' hand closed around his wrist and pulled him back. She stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against his warm, wet skin. Derek stood there, shocked for a moment and not moving. He could feel her scent seeping into his clothes, over his skin.
"Well? Are you gonna hug me back? That's the polite thing to do," Stiles murmured into his shoulder, and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her wet hair. A contented sigh was huffed against his skin, and he shivered slightly. "Yeah, you're defenitely my Dean." Derek couldn't help the gigantic grin that spread across his lips, and he pulled back, confusing Stiles for a moment. He watched her confused gaze flicker across his face before resting on his lips for a few moment. He could see her pupils dilate and a faint waft of arousal came from her. He gingerly cupped her cheek, his palm almost scorching compared to her cold skin. He heard Stiles' heart stutter, as did his.
"Is it ok if I..." he tried to say, but he didn't know how to finish the sentence. Stiles bit her lip and nodded, tring to keep it from becoming spastic and excited. Derek moved a little closer to her and gently pressed his lips against hers. Neither of them cared about the rain anymore, or their cold skin. The heat from one another was enough, and Derek felt Stiles pushed back, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. She tasted like peanut butter, chocolate and rain, and he knew then he needed more. He swiped his tongue against the seam of her lips, and Stiles parted them slightly to gasp against him. His arms tightened around her waist, and the hand that was cupping her cheek slid into her hair, getting caught in the knots. Inside of him, his Wolf howled in triumph. Everything seemed to get a little warmer, and Derek felt something warm and moist against his own tongue as he carefully explored her. Stiles' moan against his lips made him buzz, and he couldn't help the small growl that escaped him. Stiles was the first to pull away after a few moments, lips bruised and breathing hard.
"I've always wanted to kiss someone in the rain," she said quietly, resting her forehead against his. Derek ran a hand up and down her back, fingers catching slightly when they trailed over the back of her bra through the t-shirt.
"So have I," he replied. He jumped when Stiles suddenly pulled out of his arms and squinted up at the sky.
"Crap, I forgot it was raining! C'mon!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hand and running for her front door, dragging Derek behind her. Derek left the signs on the grass, a monument to what had just happened.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Derek slid between Stiles' legs on the bed, kissing a wavy trail of licks and small bites up her stomach and ribs, nosing up her t-shirt as he went. Stiles squirmed under his touches, eyes closed and cheeks flushed. Derek traced lines between the dark moles dotting his girlfriend's skin, the touches so light Stiles thought she was almost imagining them. "Do you really like teasing me?" Stiles asked grumpily, propping herself up on her elbows so she could look down at Derek. He paused his kisses and looked up at her through his lashes, lips still pressed to the skin just above her belly button. He was transfixed on the small constellation beside it, and he hummed against them, making Stiles groan and fall back on the bed with a thump. Slipping his hands from her skin to the sheets beneath them, he pulled himself up, keeping his weight on only his hands, none of him touching Stiles.
"Well, when you make noises like that..." His lips were centimetres from hers, breath teasing them slightly, and he chuckled when Stiles pouted. She ran her hands up his forearms, blue nails skimming his smooth skin.
"Curse you and your werewolf-y powers," she mumbled, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Both sets of lips were heated, tongues even hotter, and Derek fell to his forearms, their bodies moulding against one another. Derek delivered a sharp nip to Stiles' bottom lip, making the girl break away and yip in surprise. Derek's Wolf growled possessively, and he moved his lips down to her neck, sucking an angry red mark just below her ear. Stiles new immediatley that he was marking her- Derek's mother had told her that much when Derek had told her what he was. She didn't exactly 'freak out', but she did run out of the Hale house and stand still in the woods for a few moments before making all the wolves chuckle at her loud yell of 'Jesus Christ!'.
"Yep, we both like that noise," he said against her skin, and Stiles chuckled, licking a stripe along the underside of his jawline. Derek growled against her tongue and Stiles felt the vibration all the way throughout her body.
"So, tell me," Stiles said, as Derek nibbled on her earlobe and rocked his hips against hers. She choked out a groan before continuing. "Tell me what you're Mom did to Peter? Ya know, because she's his big bad Alpha." Derek's hips stopped moving and he stopped his assault on her body. Looking down at her, he saw her shit-eating grin plastered across her plump, bruised lips. Her hair was a mess behind her on the pillow and her eyes were positively glowing. To him, in that single moment, she'd never look more beautiful.
"Are we really talking about Peter and my Mom while we're in bed together?" he asked dryly. Stiles giggled and cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone. "I've told you this story a hundred times!"
"But it seems to get funnier every time I hear it!" Stiles defended, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. Derek rolled himself off of his girlfriend and propped his head on his arm. Stiles turned over to face him, tucking her legs up under herself and trying to ignore the warm, wet feeling between her legs that had accumulated after twenty minutes of her and Derek rolling around on her bed together. He sighed and decided to indulge Stiles one more time before going back to what they were usually doing.
---()---

Peter was sitting on the couch in the family room of the Hale House when his sister walked into the room, all expensive clothes and straighted-lipped. She perched herself on the arm of the couch, caressing the leather. He didn't even need to look up from his papers to see or smell her surly manner. "Hello Peter," she said. "What're you doing?"

"Hello Talia," he replied, drawing a red circle around a student's answer. "I'm marking papers." His tone was brittle, and he was almost forcing his eyes to not look at his sister.

"I meant what you were doing with Stiles before Derek came along." Peter just about surpressed his flinch at the statement. His Beta Wolf could recognise a Alpha's command immediatley, but even then his Human was telling him to keep quiet. His sister's nails drummed on the taught leather, almost matching the pace of his heartbeat. "You know me, Peter- I'm not one for violence, especially as an Alpha." Talia's tone was almost taunting, freezing Peter's blood to ice. "And, as my brother, I'm sure you know that I wouldn't want to hurt you." Peter's sinking head was snapped up with one simple command that was heavier than lead and more powerful than a nuclear plant- Look at me. Peter's eyes glowed blue as he met scarlet. "But don't think for one second that I will not hesitate to let you find a new pack if you plan on doing something against Derek and Stiles."

With that final ultimatum, Talia slid herself off the arm of the couch and sashayed out of the room, footsteps muffled by the expensive rug. Peter's red pen was pushing so hard through the paper that a red stain bloomed on his trousers.

---()---
Stiles snorted into her pillow, and Derek watched on, a giant grin on his face. "You're Mom really threatened to kick your Uncle out of the Pack?" she asked, just like she did everytime.
"Oh yeah," Derek said, feeling immensely proud of his mother. He rolled himself closer to Stiles, taking over half of her pillow and pressing his lips softly to hers. He liked the way her lips were warm and soft under his dry ones and gold twinged the rings of his irises. Stiles saw it, breath catching between their lips. Her fingertips gently traced along his cheekbones, her eyes scanning his own.
"Do that again," she whispered, almost pleading. Derek's irises turned gold and he watched Stiles' face lose control of her face as it broke into a smile. "That's incredible," she said. Derek loved hearing her voice like that. He'd heard it the first time when he wolfed out in front of her, she'd falled over, but had ended up laughing her ass off. "Open your mouth." Derek stiffened against her lips, pulling away slightly. He was very cautious about his fangs- one nick from them and she would be turned. Stiles saw the look in his eyes and pulled back, swallowing heavily. "Derek, I'm not gonna cut myself. I know what will happen," she reassured him, stroking a thumb across his cheek, feeling the days-worth of stubble there. She guessed it was a side effect of being a werewolf; the got a little more hairy than normal teenage boys. Slowly, Derek pulled back his lips, revealing the inch-long insisors that just prodded at him bottom lip. "Is it weird that I find those such an incredible turn on?" she hushed aloud, and Derek chuckled, retracting them and leaning in for a kiss. Pushing her body closer to his and wrapping her legs around his, Stiles rolled her hips against his, feeling him hard beneath her and a rumble go through his body.
"Looks like I've found new material for a new story."