Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf | for wolfy_sam but OTA, willing to play out other scenes tooalotofadderallOctober 22 2012, 16:25:52 UTC
[Heat week. Just another week for Stiles; thank God. He was pretty sure no one would want to mate with him if he were a wolf - though that doesn't stop the volumes upon volumes of pick-up lines he tries to use on Lydia each year. It won't make a difference this year, however; Lydia and Jackson are on again, and he had claimed her for the week.
So here Stiles was, sitting with the rest of his pack while Erica, Boyd, and Isaac presented themselves to the Alpha. To be Chosen was an honor; it brought gifts to the province, both from the resident Hale pack and the Alpha who mated within the province. No one expected anyone from the Hale province to be picked; it hadn't happened in a surplus of 10 years. Just another meaningless ceremony.
But Scott, Beta leader of their pack, was worried. So they were all worried. Erica and Boyd would probably mate if they weren't Chosen, but Isaac had no one. Stiles had a feeling he might just have to offer himself, for the good of the pack. It was better than watching the poor wolf suffer.]
[Stiles won't deny he's shocked when Sam moves away. The man's been scenting him all night and now...now he's asking for permission?
Stiles has seen wolves in heat. He's seen wolves crazed with need. Alphas are no exception; but Sam is a lot scarier because Stiles is his, he's the one who's supposed to fix that. He swallows again and leaves his arms by his side, no challenge in his stance whatsoever.]
I don't think I get a say, Sam. I'm yours. [Stiles hesitantly made eye contact with the Alpha. He doesn't tell him he's a virgin; he'll figure it out by Stiles' complete lack of experience. It was his to take, anyway; a right Sam had, to choose Stiles and take anything and everything he had to offer.
Hey, that was even better, right? No one had ever claimed him. That should please Sam, right?]
I'm Chosen. [Stiles ducks his head in a sign of acknowledgement, though Sam could probably smell his nerves.] I'm not going to fight it.
[His breathing is ragged, his claws digging into the top of the chair. He needs him, needs Stiles to cool the heat that’s threatening to consume him. The human’s scent is soothing, it’s helped him keep the heat under control throughout the feast, through the endless speeches and presentation of gifts. But his wolf is tired of waiting. Tired of being denied its mate by right.
[Not just a partner for heat. A mate. Sam knew it the second he’d smelled the warm, sweet smell of his skin.
[Slowly he drags himself forward. No more waiting. He can’t hold out. His skin is fever hot, bright with sweat. Sam catches his hand, bringing it up to scent at his wrist.] I’m sorry. [He can barely grate out the words] I need you, Stiles. I’m sorry. Please. [Please don’t hate him. Please. He won’t assault him, won’t throw him down and take him against his will. Sam needs him to say yes. Breathing coming in slow gasps, he moves closer, nosing at his jaw. He’s perfect. Everything he needs to feel complete and whole. Stiles
( ... )
[Stiles almost flinches when he sees Sam's claws digging into the couch, imagining them digging into his flesh. His eyes are wide at the plea, just barely managing from flinching away when Sam take his arm, scents his wrist. Then he's nuzzling against his jaw, something that feels ridiculously intimate to Stiles. Goosebumps rise on his skin when Sam grips his waist loosely, and Stiles keeps himself still, unsure of what Sam wants him to do, what he's allowed to do, how to do anything.]
I'm yours. [Stiles repeats, if a little sadly, tears prickling his eyes. He swallows, closing them tightly. He doesn't want to belong to anyone; he's been treated like an object ever since Sam pointed at him. It wasn't fair; but it was tradition and it would keep his pack safe.] I'm yours. Go ahead.
[He doesn't know about the mate thing; that he really is Sam's. If he were a wolf, this wouldn't be an issue, finding his other half. He'd be able to recognize it.
[Sam’s eyes are pleading as he leans to nose at his neck again. Pleasedon’thateme. He can hear the tremor in his voice, feel the tension in his chest. His wolf wants to take, but the human side of him is digging in his heels. This feels like assault.
[Panting, he cups his face, nuzzling his jaw and his neck, marking him with his scent, drowning out the rest of the pack.] I’ve waited so long for you. I’ve waited my whole life.. didn’t think I’d ever find you.
[His mate. His destined mate. Elation is warring with the overpowering need to bury himself in Stiles. Sam pulls at his own shirt, yanking the suit jacket and tie off. The clothes are too confining, holding in the heat that’s making his blood boil.] I need you.
[Stiles isn’t reacting. He’s upset and passive in his arms and Sam damns himself for not being able to stop. He can’t make him understand. He’s not a wolf. He’s human and he doesn’t understand how important this is. How badly Sam needs him.]
Find me? [Stiles mutters, glancing away from the plead in Sam's eyes. He doesn't need to plead with Stiles. The teen will do whatever he needs to, in order to keep his province safe. He's not going to fight it. He's not
( ... )
[Sam will hate himself later. But he can’t stop himself from touching, from scenting him, marking Stiles as his.] As my mate. Wolves wait their entire lives to find a mate like this. Some never do. [He starts working the buttons on his shirt, clothes too confining, making his skin crawl and itch. He needs to rub himself against Stiles, feel the warm glide of skin against skin. Touch him. Make him his.] I didn’t think I would.
[His hands are hot and dry over Stiles’s. Steadying them over the zipper for his hoodie. If he bares his skin, Sam won’t be able to stop himself. He’ll expose more of his skin, more of his scent to his wolf and drive him to mate.] My wolf knows you. Knows you as my mate.
Oh. [Stiles swallows, letting Sam scent him, feeling the slight drag of Sam's claws on his body. Dangerous. He had to be careful not to piss Sam off. Alpha...] Well. Good for you, then.
[It's not sarcastic, for once, and it's not bitter - quiet, resigned, accepting. Stiles finally meets Sam's eyes again when his hand closes over his, and tugs gently on the zipper, letting the first three catches of teeth unclench.]
Th-thank you for letting me see my pack, [Stiles forces himself to look at Sam the whole time he's speaking, convey his gratitude.] ...and my father.
[The quiet resignation in his voice is probably worse than bitterness or anger. Instead of provoking an angry response, it brings his guilt to bear, warring with his heat. He’d found his mate and because of his heat, his overpowering instinct to mate, he was going to lose him forever. Sam’s hands close around his again. He can’t reveal more of his skin, his scent. It was hard enough to be around him right now and not do what his wolf was demanding. Mate.Take.Claim.] You’ll see them again. When.. when it’s safe. After this week.
[Tradition demanded he take his mate back to his province for a year. To thoroughly claim him, to determine if a true mating bond was there. But Sam knew the law, knew the codes laid down. Stiles was young enough. He could stay if he wished.] I.. I won’t force you to come with me.
[He was going to lose his mate. The only mate he’d ever be happy with and the heartbreak was so sudden and sharp that it cut through the haze of heat.] I’ll talk to Derek.
[But he couldn’t stop himself tonight. Tonight he would
( ... )
...No. You can't - [Stiles bit back his words, feeling a flare of anger and hurt wash through him. Sam had Chosen him, and he'd accepted it. Sam had gifted his pack, his province, and now he was going to what? Use him for the week and toss him back? Stiles couldn't pull away, but he would've if he could've. No. Sam shouldn't be allowed to treat him like that.
But he was allowed. As an Alpha, Sam could do whatever the fuck he wanted. To take his virginity and give him back, shame him in front of his entire province. As if Stiles' life didn't suck enough. A failed Alpha mate. Nice going, Stilinski.]
[He can't do this. Not while heat has his mind fogged and is starting to seriously test his control. Stiles doesn't understand. He doesn't understand what Sam is trying to tell him, or that he's willing to let him go to return to his family. What he needs is Stiles. His skin, his scent, he needs to cool the fire that was making his blood boil and his wolf restless.]
I'm sorry. You don't understand. [Slowly he drags down the zipper of his hoodie, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. The scent of his skin hits Sam like a hammer and he wrenches his shirt, heedless of the buttons popping and flying around the room. His hand cups his jaw, tilting his head back so he can scent his neck, mark him completely.] I'm sorry Stiles. I'm sorry but I need this. I need you.
Oh I understand. [Stiles mutters darkly, but then Sam is undressing him, suddenly and quickly, and he gasps in surprise, trembling a little when the buttons of his shirt pop and Sam pulls it from his body, scenting him like his life depends on it. Stiles complies with the hand cupping his jaw, shivering as Sam scents his neck.]
Fine. You can have me. [Stiles hates this. That Sam is going to make him beg to stay so he doesn't let his province down. It's embarrassing and he doesn't need another person showing him how much he doesn't matter, a stupid human.
They can't afford to return the gifts anyway, which was exactly what Derek would do if Sam gave Stiles back. He hadn't thought the Alpha was a bad guy, not really, until just now, misunderstanding Sam's intentions.] Do it.
[Later, Sam will drown in guilt, certain that his fated mate loathes him. Not as much as he'll hate himself, but that's never stopped a Winchester before. For now, the angry pitch of his words only gets a frustrated growl in response. He's his mate. As a human, Stiles didn't understand what that meant and he wasn't in the right frame of mind to even tell him that he'd die before he hurt Stiles. Literally die for his mate.
[Sam crowds him back towards the expansive bed. He's beyond words. If he doesn't do it soon, he might hurt him.
[And it was clear Stiles already hated him.
[Closing his eyes, Sam pulls the remnants of his shirt off, discarding it on the floor. He works at Stiles's shirt next, pushing it up over his head and laying it at the end of the bed.
[Stiles may hate him, but he can at least try to show him how cherished he is.]
[Sam growls at him, and the anger/hurt melts away into heart-pumping fear. Stiles stumbles back against the bed, confused as Sam wasn't as careless with Stiles' clothes, bothering to preserve them at the end of the bed.
Unsure of whether the tears in his eyes were fear or anger, Stiles thumbed the button on his jeans, opening them. Sam looked like he was about to lose it - Stiles shouldn't have been arguing with him anyway.
He swallows, lowering his eyes and unzipping his fly. Right. Sam wanted to mate and Stiles would just have to deal with the humiliation later.] I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - I know my place. [Fucking playtoy, apparently.] Please forgive me.
[Stiles is doing nothing to help calm Sam's general agitation. Knows his place? Does he have any idea the kind of power he had over Sam now? Jesus. Stiles could ask him for anything at all and he'd be hard-pressed to refuse him. He's not some toy to fuck and throw away.
[A strangled sound that's somewhere between a snarl and a sob tears it's way from Sam's throat and he falls to his knees, claws digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. The pain helps.
[Fuck. Maybe he should opt for the silver chains for the week and be done with it.]
You don't.. you don't understand. You're my mate. [The word mate is almost howled.] You're part of a pack, don't you see?
[He looks down at the blood in his hands, the swiftly healing cuts.] I'm a monster, I get that. But I'd die before I hurt you.
[Stiles can't help but flinch when Sam drops to the ground, claws extended. For a brief second he thinks he's about to die - but Sam is hurting himself and that just really doesn't make any sense to Stiles.]
M-my pack is gone. [Stiles stutters, pausing at how broken Sam sounds at the word 'mate'.] You're my Alpha now.
[And Stiles really does freeze, now, dropping to sit on the bed. What?
Sam...isn't a monster. Unless he forced shame on Stiles' province, he wasn't...but to die for him? What the hell had Stiles ever done for that kind of loyalty? ]
Look, just, [Stiles swallows, threading his fingers together nervously.] Just do it, okay?
You - you're not thinking straight...just take me.
So here Stiles was, sitting with the rest of his pack while Erica, Boyd, and Isaac presented themselves to the Alpha. To be Chosen was an honor; it brought gifts to the province, both from the resident Hale pack and the Alpha who mated within the province. No one expected anyone from the Hale province to be picked; it hadn't happened in a surplus of 10 years. Just another meaningless ceremony.
But Scott, Beta leader of their pack, was worried. So they were all worried. Erica and Boyd would probably mate if they weren't Chosen, but Isaac had no one. Stiles had a feeling he might just have to offer himself, for the good of the pack. It was better than watching the poor wolf suffer.]
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Stiles has seen wolves in heat. He's seen wolves crazed with need. Alphas are no exception; but Sam is a lot scarier because Stiles is his, he's the one who's supposed to fix that. He swallows again and leaves his arms by his side, no challenge in his stance whatsoever.]
I don't think I get a say, Sam. I'm yours. [Stiles hesitantly made eye contact with the Alpha. He doesn't tell him he's a virgin; he'll figure it out by Stiles' complete lack of experience. It was his to take, anyway; a right Sam had, to choose Stiles and take anything and everything he had to offer.
Hey, that was even better, right? No one had ever claimed him. That should please Sam, right?]
I'm Chosen. [Stiles ducks his head in a sign of acknowledgement, though Sam could probably smell his nerves.] I'm not going to fight it.
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[Not just a partner for heat. A mate. Sam knew it the second he’d smelled the warm, sweet smell of his skin.
[Slowly he drags himself forward. No more waiting. He can’t hold out. His skin is fever hot, bright with sweat. Sam catches his hand, bringing it up to scent at his wrist.] I’m sorry. [He can barely grate out the words] I need you, Stiles. I’m sorry. Please. [Please don’t hate him. Please. He won’t assault him, won’t throw him down and take him against his will. Sam needs him to say yes. Breathing coming in slow gasps, he moves closer, nosing at his jaw. He’s perfect. Everything he needs to feel complete and whole. Stiles ( ... )
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I'm yours. [Stiles repeats, if a little sadly, tears prickling his eyes. He swallows, closing them tightly. He doesn't want to belong to anyone; he's been treated like an object ever since Sam pointed at him. It wasn't fair; but it was tradition and it would keep his pack safe.] I'm yours. Go ahead.
[He doesn't know about the mate thing; that he really is Sam's. If he were a wolf, this wouldn't be an issue, finding his other half. He'd be able to recognize it.
But he's not a wolf. That's the problem.]
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[Panting, he cups his face, nuzzling his jaw and his neck, marking him with his scent, drowning out the rest of the pack.] I’ve waited so long for you. I’ve waited my whole life.. didn’t think I’d ever find you.
[His mate. His destined mate. Elation is warring with the overpowering need to bury himself in Stiles. Sam pulls at his own shirt, yanking the suit jacket and tie off. The clothes are too confining, holding in the heat that’s making his blood boil.] I need you.
[Stiles isn’t reacting. He’s upset and passive in his arms and Sam damns himself for not being able to stop. He can’t make him understand. He’s not a wolf. He’s human and he doesn’t understand how important this is. How badly Sam needs him.]
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[His hands are hot and dry over Stiles’s. Steadying them over the zipper for his hoodie. If he bares his skin, Sam won’t be able to stop himself. He’ll expose more of his skin, more of his scent to his wolf and drive him to mate.] My wolf knows you. Knows you as my mate.
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[It's not sarcastic, for once, and it's not bitter - quiet, resigned, accepting. Stiles finally meets Sam's eyes again when his hand closes over his, and tugs gently on the zipper, letting the first three catches of teeth unclench.]
Th-thank you for letting me see my pack, [Stiles forces himself to look at Sam the whole time he's speaking, convey his gratitude.] ...and my father.
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[Tradition demanded he take his mate back to his province for a year. To thoroughly claim him, to determine if a true mating bond was there. But Sam knew the law, knew the codes laid down. Stiles was young enough. He could stay if he wished.] I.. I won’t force you to come with me.
[He was going to lose his mate. The only mate he’d ever be happy with and the heartbreak was so sudden and sharp that it cut through the haze of heat.] I’ll talk to Derek.
[But he couldn’t stop himself tonight. Tonight he would ( ... )
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But he was allowed. As an Alpha, Sam could do whatever the fuck he wanted. To take his virginity and give him back, shame him in front of his entire province. As if Stiles' life didn't suck enough. A failed Alpha mate. Nice going, Stilinski.]
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I'm sorry. You don't understand. [Slowly he drags down the zipper of his hoodie, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. The scent of his skin hits Sam like a hammer and he wrenches his shirt, heedless of the buttons popping and flying around the room. His hand cups his jaw, tilting his head back so he can scent his neck, mark him completely.] I'm sorry Stiles. I'm sorry but I need this. I need you.
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Fine. You can have me. [Stiles hates this. That Sam is going to make him beg to stay so he doesn't let his province down. It's embarrassing and he doesn't need another person showing him how much he doesn't matter, a stupid human.
They can't afford to return the gifts anyway, which was exactly what Derek would do if Sam gave Stiles back. He hadn't thought the Alpha was a bad guy, not really, until just now, misunderstanding Sam's intentions.] Do it.
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[Sam crowds him back towards the expansive bed. He's beyond words. If he doesn't do it soon, he might hurt him.
[And it was clear Stiles already hated him.
[Closing his eyes, Sam pulls the remnants of his shirt off, discarding it on the floor. He works at Stiles's shirt next, pushing it up over his head and laying it at the end of the bed.
[Stiles may hate him, but he can at least try to show him how cherished he is.]
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Unsure of whether the tears in his eyes were fear or anger, Stiles thumbed the button on his jeans, opening them. Sam looked like he was about to lose it - Stiles shouldn't have been arguing with him anyway.
He swallows, lowering his eyes and unzipping his fly. Right. Sam wanted to mate and Stiles would just have to deal with the humiliation later.] I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - I know my place. [Fucking playtoy, apparently.] Please forgive me.
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[A strangled sound that's somewhere between a snarl and a sob tears it's way from Sam's throat and he falls to his knees, claws digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. The pain helps.
[Fuck. Maybe he should opt for the silver chains for the week and be done with it.]
You don't.. you don't understand. You're my mate. [The word mate is almost howled.] You're part of a pack, don't you see?
[He looks down at the blood in his hands, the swiftly healing cuts.] I'm a monster, I get that. But I'd die before I hurt you.
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M-my pack is gone. [Stiles stutters, pausing at how broken Sam sounds at the word 'mate'.] You're my Alpha now.
[And Stiles really does freeze, now, dropping to sit on the bed. What?
Sam...isn't a monster. Unless he forced shame on Stiles' province, he wasn't...but to die for him? What the hell had Stiles ever done for that kind of loyalty? ]
Look, just, [Stiles swallows, threading his fingers together nervously.] Just do it, okay?
You - you're not thinking straight...just take me.
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