Stiles breaks a werewolf out of jail using not-so-legal means.
Bookmarked by Norwaycat
23 May 2018
"I'm an Omega, and not even one Alpha --"
Scott made a face, quickly interrupting Stiles. "Yeah, that's what you want. An Alpha trying to take you out of my pack, use you for sex."
"Oh, please." Stiles said, rolling over on his stomach. "I'd never leave your pack, dumbass." He rested his chin in his hand, looking down at the long forgotten Algebra book. He groaned. "Seriously, you can't be the only Alpha in Beacon Hills. There's got to be one that wants me."
"I know one who would be glad to take advantage of you." Scott said, flipping to another page in his own mostly forgotten book.
"If you're talking about Derek -- uh, I don't want him. He definitely doesn't want me."
Today, the 22nd of June, would be the day that Stiles learned Truth or Dare was so much more innocent when they were children. His dare was as follows: He had to download an app called Sudy, and he had to reply to every message he received for a full week.
So he downloaded the app.
“What the hell is this,” he mumbled as he signed up, brows furrowing as he read the tagline. “Wait -- What am I signing up for?” He asked, looking up at Isaac who looked way more pleased than he should have.
“Oh, this is a dating app,” Isaac spoke, smirking in a way that Stiles knew there was a catch. There was always a catch. “For sugar daddies to meet their sugar babies.”
Peter just wants to spoil Stiles.
Stiles just wants people to stop kidnapping him to get to Scott.
Turns out, Peter's the only one that gets what he wants.
But as much as Peter longed to feel the blood of every last Argent on his hands a new plan was starting to form. There was something different about Stiles’ scent now. Something that hadn’t been there before, or maybe hadn’t been as strong before. Something that made Peter’s mouth water and his heart race. Something that filled Peter up with what some might call hope, but he called possibilities.
Stiles smelled like magic and Peter wanted.
“Can I help you with something?” Eggsy asked cooly, his voice probably more brusque than it should have been, but he was tired as fuck and if Merlin wanted to take offense, he could shove it.
“You refused pain meds.” Merlin’s voice was quiet, but in an authoritative sort of way.
Eggsy sighed internally; sighing for real hurt too much.
“Eggsy.” Merlin’s voice was stern. “You didn’t take the paracetamol, did you.” There wasn’t a question in Merlin’s voice.
Eggsy considered lying, then gave a half-shrug, biting his lip when it hurt. “Not a big fan of pills.”
Merlin’s brow creased, like he was trying to puzzle Eggsy out. “They could have given you a shot -”
“Not a big fan of needles, either.” Which wasn’t entirely the truth. But hell if he was going to tell Merlin that.
Bookmarked by Norwaycat
18 May 2018