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sapphireginger · 9 months

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At Our Ex-Spence: Chapter #25

Summary:

Stuart’s cheeks are soaked with salty streams, but it feels so good to let it all out. His shoulders shake with silent sobs and then he throws his head back and screams. The grief, agony, pain, heartache and despair he feels flood the clearing. Stiles sways in the path of the waves of intense emotions. The wind picks up. Lightning flashes over and over again. Thunder roars and the trees sway faster and faster. Stuart’s head slowly falls forward from its upward position. The shadow trembles in terror as he locks eyes with her.

AO3 Link

Stiles hates everything right now. Okay, well not everything but he does hate that apparently Stuart has to face Jasmine. Stuart has to face her shadow, just like Stiles faced the shadows of the Nogitsune and the alpha wolf. He doesn’t understand why he’s there though. It doesn’t make sense. Why would—

“Awe. What’s the matter baby boo?” Jasmine says. “Don’t tell me you forgot about me.” She smirks and it makes Stuart shudder. “You wouldn’t forget me, would you? I mean it’s your fault I’m dead.”

Stuart shakes his head. “N-No. I-It was—It was an accident.”

Jasmine laughs cruelly. “Was it? Or were you just so desperate not to have me convince you to say something that you decided I had to be dealt with.”

“No.”

“Was it because I rejected you when you said you liked me? I mean have you seen you? Why would I want to say yes to that?”

Stiles makes a fist, latching onto his bond with his mate, which like when he faced his shadows, is muted slightly. His magic is restless and ready to lash out to defend his brother. As much as he wants to though, he can’t. Stuart has to do this. However, that doesn’t mean he can’t help.

“No. I told you I liked you because you were upset about Lou not liking you back. I told you there was nothing wrong with you. I told you he was stupid.”

Jasmine quirks a brow. “Just like you?”

Stuart flinches. “No. I’m not stupid.”

“Maybe not, but there is definitely something—perhaps several somethings—wrong with you.”

“Why are you saying these things? Jazzy this isn’t you.”

Stiles sends soothing vibrations towards his brother and lets his voice echo in his twin’s mind.

“You’re right. It’s not her. She would never say these things to you. Think Stu. Think. Uważać.”

Stuart’s gaze doesn’t stray from Jasmine, but Stiles’s words strike something inside him, igniting his core. He looks at Jasmine with confusion. “You’re not Jazzy.”

“Oh really.” Her voice is hard like steel. “Says who?” She glances at Stiles. “Him? Oh. I see. You need a little help, Stu-Boo? Can’t face me like a man?”

“Shut up!” Stuart snaps. “Shut the hell up!”

The sky flashes with bolts of lightning. The sound of thunder claps, all encompassing in the clearing.

“Thatta boy. Come on baby. Let’s play.” She’s watching him like he’s prey, and Stiles feels helpless. He knows with every fiber of his being that he can’t do this for his brother but there has to be something he can do.

“What’s his favorite color?” Stiles calls out.

Jasmine looks over at him with an annoyed expression. “Green. Obviously.”

Stuart’s brow furrows slightly. “No, it’s not.”

“Of course, it is, Stu-Boo. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not green. My favorite color is purple. Just like Ally’s. That's why I always get her violets.”

Jasmine glares at him and then at Stiles. “Stay out of this sparky!”

Stiles smirks. “Not a chance, shadow bitch.” The last word is said under his breath, so Stuart doesn’t hear it.

Stuart takes a step towards Jasmine. “You can’t be real. I don't know what’s happening. I don’t understand but I know Jazzy and you aren’t her. Whatever you are, you’re wrong. I can see how you corrupt the air around you.” His eyes glaze over slightly and Stiles’s heart beats faster at the sight of glowing turquoise eyes.

“Now Stu-Boo. Just hold on a second.”

The younger twin shakes his head and focuses his gaze on her once more. “What’s dead should stay dead, and you died. You are nothing more than a shade. You are nothing more than a stain. You are nothing more than a shadow.”

Jasmine’s form shudders at his words and then her eyes go pitch black. She begins to spout out harsher, crueler, meaner and darker things towards Stuart in an attempt to break him.

While he was winning out before, at her words something inside him believes what she’s saying. The ignited warmth starts to fade, and he feels so cold. She’s not saying anything he himself hasn’t already thought of a million times before.

Stiles thinks about Peter. He thinks about how his mate grounds him and his magic. Peter is the anchor for his magic. He thinks about how Stuart has magic but hasn’t understood what that means. He thinks about how Allison is probably the anchor for Stuart’s magic. Stiles realizes with every second that passes, his twin is getting colder, and Stuart’s spark is waning.

Anger and protectiveness surge through the older twin as he steps forward. His eyes flash dangerously and the action causes Jasmine to freeze in the middle of another taunt. Stiles’s hands crackle with electricity, his spark and magic waiting for his will to guide them.

Jasmine smiles sweetly. “Si mihi non occurrit, deficiet. Locum eius capere non potes.”

Stiles smirks and tilts his head, the amethyst glow of his eyes shifting slightly. A sliver of shadows swirls within them. His eyes begin to spiral and that’s when the shadow looks truly terrified.

Her hold on his brother dissolves instantly and Stuart snaps his gaze towards his brother. “Stiles?” he says.

The older twin looks at his brother and nods. Stiles doesn’t let Stuart say anything. “You are so strong Stu. So very strong. You are so smart, Stu. So very smart. There is nothing you can’t do.”

“That's not true, Stiles. I’m not—”

“Yes. You. Are.” Stiles’s magic hisses as Jasmine takes a step toward Stuart once more and she freezes at the sound. “Stu? No one witnesses someone else’s death and comes out untainted but that darkness that is weighing you down is only as strong as you make it.”

Stuart tilts his head. “What do you mean?” he asks.

Jasmine tries again to get closer to Stuart but with a look, the younger twin freezes her. He’s shocked it worked. All Stuart wants is for her to not get to him. He wants her to stay right where she is. When the younger twin looks back at his brother, Stiles is smiling.

Stiles nods. “You are braver than you think, stronger than you believe and smarter than you think. Stu, you are only limited by the power of your belief. You are right. She’s not Jasmine. You know that. So don’t listen to what she is saying. It’s not true. You know that.”

“But she’s dead because of–”

“No!” Stiles says, cutting him off. “It was an accident. She fell. Think Stu. Pamiętać.”

Remember. Remember. Remember.

✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶

“I’m just saying that telling them how you’re feeling would help, Stu,” Jasmine says.

Stuart paces on the rocky outcrop and shakes his head. “I can’t, Jazzy. There’s no trust now. How am I supposed to trust them? They’ve kept this from me. Who knows what else they’re hiding.”

Jasmine pushes up from her seated position onto her knees. “Stuart, I know. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. Sometimes as hard as it seems, the best thing to do is say it. They might not know how much this is hurting you.”

He turns away and rakes his hands through his hair. “I just…” he trails off and turns to look at her. “I’m scared.”

“I know.” Her voice is soft as she gets to her feet and moves closer to pull him into a hug. “I know.”

They stay like that for a long time and Stuart feels the tension that had been building up, seep out of him bit by bit.

When they finally part, he shoves his hands in his pockets and gently bumps their shoulders together. “You want to get some pizza?” he asks.

She gives him a blinding grin. “Definitely.”

He laughs softly and offers his hand. “Let’s go.”

Stuart hadn’t brought anything with him when they came out earlier, but Jasmine has her notebook and bag. Her eyes rake over his face, loving the way he’s smiling now. She did that. Because she’s so focused on him, her foot catches on her back and she trips. The impact between her body and the ground makes her cry out as the wind is knocked out of her.

He rushes over and falls to his knees. “Jazzy?!”

“I’m okay,” she says, rubbing her head and pushing herself up. She cries out when she puts pressure on her wrist and slips forward once again.

Neither of them realizes how close they are to the edge. It had rained the night before and as she slips and Stuart reaches for her hand, something gives.

There’s nothing they can do as the ground crumbles beneath them. They tumble down, down, down and—CRACK!

Darkness.

Stuart groans and slowly sits up the world tilting dangerously. He starts coughing. “Jaz? Jazzy?!” he calls out. His eyes alight on her crumpled form and he launches himself towards her, ignoring the pain that flares up in his ankle. “No! No. Jaz? Jazzy? Jasmine?!” he cries out.

Her eyes flutter slightly and blood trails out of her mouth. Her eyes are hazy, and he carefully moves her head to his lap, tucking her hair behind her ears. He chokes back sobs that wrack his entire body.

Jasmine feels so cold, but she doesn’t focus on that. He needs to know. She has to make him understand. It hurts but she pushes through the pain. “You. N-No. F-Fault.”

Stuart blinks the tears from his eyes. “Of course, it’s my fault. You never would have been out here if it wasn’t for me.”

Jasmine coughs slightly and she knows she doesn't have much time left. “I. L-Love. Y-You. Y-You. B-Be. O-Okay.” She can’t get any more words out and her heartbeat slows down.

“Jaz…I love you too. Don’t leave me. Please. Just hold on.”

There’s no response, but he continues pleading long after her heart has stopped. He knows logically that she’s gone but he just can’t think about that. A mere second after her heart stops, he lets out a blood curdling shriek. He feels like he’s on fire and clutches at his chest. Tears stream down his face and the pain becomes too much.

Darkness.

✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶

The wind picks up. Lightning flashes over and over again. Thunder roars and the trees sway faster and faster. Stuart’s head slowly falls forward from its upward position. The shadow trembles in terror as he locks eyes with her.

Sparks are born. Sparks are not made. Stuart’s skin begins to heat up. His eyes begin to glow and his flash brighter than ever before.

“I. Loved. Her.” He doesn't raise his voice, but he might as well be yelling for how clear and sharp his words are. “She was everything to me. I would have ended my life without her. After I lost her, I broke but I did not shatter.”

The shadow tries to move but can’t so much as twitch. It watches as black tendrils rise up behind the spark totaling four. Four shadow tails.

“You come here and pretend to be her. You dig into my insecurities and pretend to be her, but you are nothing like her. Jazzy was good. She was the sun to my darkness. She was the warmth to my cold. She was the softness to my jagged edges. She was the hope to my jadedness. She never called me Stu-Boo.”

Stiles watches his brother with pride and sends that pride to him.

Stuart uses the pride from his twin to push on. “Umbra non est lux. Non tenebrae dies. Tu macula es in terra. deleo te. Adiuro te. finem tibi faciam.”

As the last word leaves his mouth, the shadow jerks and opens its own mouth in a silent, muted shriek. There’s a burst of white light that brings both sparks to their knees as the clearing is engulfed in heat.

Stuart shudders, his eyes closing in relief. “Liber sum. Liberavi me. Omnia, quæ ego sum, fregi vincula. Non tenebar amplius tenebris et umbra. Ego enim sum tenebrae. lux sum. Nam umbra sum. Ego sum scintilla.”

✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶

Time seems to still and there is no sound. Stuart can’t even hear his own breathing, but he feels…His eyes flutter open slightly and then widen in surprise. Fresh tears spill down his cheeks. “Jasmine.”

Jasmine’s light smiles at him, and he shudders when her lips graze his forehead. She’s so warm and as her light surrounds him, he feels the last traces of darkness leave him. He’s free. “I love you, Jazzy,” he whispers, letting his eyes fall shut once more.

✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶

When Stuart opens his eyes again, Stiles is kneeling in front of him. There’s a small fox next to his brother's leg that then wraps itself around Stiles’s neck like a scarf.

Stuart is stirred from his curious stare at the fox and stills when the older twin cups his face. The amber eyes, identical to his own, are full of so many emotions that Stuart can’t even begin to identify them.

Stiles brings their foreheads together and sniffles before clearing his throat. “Optime occurrit, Scintilla Gajos,” he whispers. “Well met.”

“Optime occurrit, Scintilla Hale.” Stuart feels something click into place at his words. “Well met.”

#steter #teen wolf #stilinski twins #stuart gajos #stiles stilinski #angst #past character death #past injury #revelations #latin #polish #heavy angst #spark stiles stilinski #spark stuart twombly #at our ex-spence: ch. 25

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huntersanonymous · 6 years

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Soul Survivor (Prologue)

Author: huntersanonymous

Title: Bump In The Night

Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Warnings: swearing, magic, death mentioned

Summary: You never know what to expect in Beacon Hills, especially on Halloween.

All Hallows eve used to be sacred. It used to mean something. It was a day set apart from the others, a day to celebrate the dead. You didn’t understand why your parents made such a big deal about it when you were so young, but now, after having seen too much death, it does seem sacred.

But this? People’s idea of Halloween now? It’s nothing but a mockery of the day some hold so dear. Sure, the ones who celebrate all hallows eve aren’t doing it out in the open, but the principle should still stand.

“What are you supposed to be?” You stopped in your tracks, turning your head toward the small voice behind you.

You weren’t surprised when you spotted a couple of small children dressed up for trick-or-treating, much to your regret. You spied a pirate, ninja, witch, and a ball of pink glitter with a crown and wand.

“What?” You asked dumbly, and the little princess gave you an unimpressed look that made you re-think your entire existence.

“What are you supposed to be? It’s Halloween. You won’t get candy if you’re not in costume.” She said matter of factly, placing her small hand on her hip.

And that’s how you found yourself in a mini stare down with a five year old pink princess. Seriously, Halloween sucked.

“I’m the wicked witch, and you should be careful or I’ll put a spell on you.” You had officially hit an all time low.

“Nuh uh, witches wear hats. See.” The little girl snatched the hat off the little witch beside her who looked afraid of her own shadow and shoved it toward you with an air of superiority that could rival most adults you knew.

You knew it was immature. You also knew it was reckless, but there is just something about this holiday and children that struck a deep nerve and before you knew it you grabbed the hat from the little girl and placed it on your head.

You gave the children a rueful smile, with too much teeth and threw your hands out toward them, calling your magic too you to make the leaves rumble in the wind.

“Twist thy bones, and bend thy back.. Itchita kyptika melaka mystica.. Trim the of thine baby fat..” You cackled, yes, cackled. Thank you Hocos Pocus. Now you hit an all time low.

You watched the children’s eyes grow wide, the little impostor witch close to tears as she clung to the princess who was watching the crisp fall leaves begin to circle them.

“Witch!” The pirate screamed, grabbing the ninja and running toward a more populated house followed by the tiny impostor and obnoxious princess hot on their heels.

You watched the small child scurry away from you, and you let the wind die down with a small smile on your face.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” You mused, adjusting the monstrosity of a hat on your head and your deep green cloak across your shoulders. At least now you would blend in better as you made your way to the woods and hopefully, away from the children.

There was a painful clench in your chest as you heard laughter coming from the happy families out enjoying their night, but ignored them as you tried to remain incognito on the streets until you found yourself at the entrance to the woods.

You thought back to this time last year, which brought the ache in your chest back full force but you continued on anyway. You closed your eyes, picturing your sister walking beside you, bouncing away with too much energy. She was too young, never quite understood the ceremony, but came along anyway, because it’s what witches do.

They celebrate death, welcome it as an old friend, because they know it will be okay. Once you die, your magic that the earth lent, will be returned and you will spend the rest of your days with your ancestors. The witches before you, who will in turn look out for the witches after you. It was important.

That’s why you found yourself traipsing through these unfamiliar woods in Beacon Hills, because it was October 31st and this was important. You were careful crossing the border of the small but powerful town a few hours ago, not wanting to alert anyone to your presence just yet.

You felt the town thrumming with old magic, enough to give you the slightest high since visiting Salem. It was nice being surrounded by this much magic, but you knew where magic was, trouble was close behind.

You ran your fingers along certain trees as you followed the slow hum of magic from the ley lines into the forest to where you could perform the ceremony in peace.

You kept in tune with the wind, getting the smallest hint of voices from teenagers who were partying a few hundred yards away. The slight smell of alcohol tinged the air, enough to make you curl your nose and shake your head.

“Disgraceful.” The air curled beside you as if agreeing. “As if little children dressing up in costumes, and demanding candy isn’t bad enough. Now there are teenagers out getting drunk and causing trouble just because it’s their supposed mischief night.” You grumbled to yourself, wrapping your cloak tighter. around you

It didn’t take long to reach the focal point of the forest were the ley lines connected but you weren’t expecting what you found at the center. A nemeton.

“Oh goddess what have they done to you?” You murmured, running your fingertips over the decrepit stump which was ones a beautiful oak. You felt the earth around the stump screaming, yelling for help but nobody came. Until you.

“How could someone let this happen?” You let your head hang in shame, shaking it slowly as you counted the rings on the tree.

You knew the answer though. There was no one around to stop this. There weren’t enough of your kind left anymore, you’ve been wiped out close to extinction. You closed your eyes, sending up a silent prayer to your ancestors.

It was no use though, because no matter how hard you prayed or hard hard you worked, your death was always in the cards since birth. You grew up knowing your days were numbered, always being cautious, because of the hunters.

When you have old magic, “dangerous” magic, you become a liability. Even if you’re good, even if you would never hurt anyone, they can’t let you live because of what you are.

You used to accept it. You used to take all that prejudice, all that hate, and look the other way because surly if you were truly good nothing would happen. Your mother was a nurse, she helped people. Your dad was chief of the fire station in your small town. Your sister, all though annoying, had an act for healing just like your mother.

They were good.

You wiped a silent tear from your cheek before pulling out three white candles and placing them on the nemeton. You ignored the oaks cry for help, sending a quick promise that you will try to restore the balance but not tonight. Not on this day.

You took a deep breathe, calming your heart rate before igniting a match and lighting the first candle.

“Grief, because losing you was too much for one person to bear.” You turned to the second candle, lighting it as well. “Love, because I will never forgot what you taught me and will always cherish the time we had together.” The light seemed to flicker brighter as you fought back the tears threatening to fall.

You took a deep breath, finding your center. Blinking away the tears, you turned to the remaining candle with a clenched jaw. Lighting the match, you watched the fire come to life before putting it to the wick.

“Strength, because I need to fight for what is left.” You felt the wind pick up beside you, gathering around the stump and causing the fallen leaves to create a small vortex.

“May the ancestors nurture the living, and may the living nurture the dead. So mote it be.” You whispered, letting the air flow through your fingers before extinguishing each flame.

You watched the ember of the last candle, not wanting to die quite yet and you couldn’t help but think of yourself.

“I never thought I would say this, but I hate mischief night.” Stiles growled into the phone, reaching up to wipe some of the egg out of his hair where the teenager he just placed in a patrol car aimed it.

“Oh buddy..” Scott was using his sad eyes on the other end, he was sure of it. “I’m sorry. At least you’re not alone, Derek’s there right?”

Stiles cut his eyes to Derek, who was trying really hard not to laugh at him. Stupid Sourwolf, why he was glad the older man was back Stiles had no idea.

“Yep, dad refused to let me go out alone, even though I am a trained professional now.” Stiles ignored Derek’s scoff by rolling his eyes at the older man and tapping the hood of Johnson’s patrol car.

He watched the car until the taillights turned down the street and out of sight before turning back to the preserve with a scowl.

“He’s just looking out for you, ya know.” Scott’s logic pissed him of sometimes, it really did.

“Yeah, well I don’t need a babysitter. I get why he doesn’t want to put me with another deputy until we vet someone to let into the supernatural shit.. But I work better alone.” Stiles kicked a pinecone across the clearing as he walked, listening to Scott’s deep sigh on the phone.

“Monroe is still out there Stiles, and you may not be supernatural but you’re important to the pack which means you are a potential target.” Stiles kept from rolling his eyes by sheer force of will, because if he has to listen to this argument one more time, he’s not sure he can stop from shooting Scott.

Stiles looked back a little to see Derek’s frowny face aimed at him, which, rude. He didn’t do anything to deserve the gloom and doom look.

“I will be fine Scott, you worry too much.” He huffed, putting the phone between his shoulder and ear as he sipped up his jacket.

For a fall California it was unusually cold outside, probably stemming from the 20 degree drop in temperature within the last couple of hours. He wasn’t complaining, but he definitely wasn’t prepared either.

“It’s my job to worry Stiles.” And there it was, the eye roll he knew Scott was giving the phone.

“Yes, oh alpha my alpha... speaking of Alpha’s, how’s Satomi dealing with everything?” Stiles listened to rustling on the line at what he assumed was Scott going somewhere more private to talk.

“As good as can be expected.. I mean she moved out of California to try and re-build her pack after the deadpool and then this happens. She just seems a little lost. Me and Argent are trying to track Monroe’s hunters.. But nothing yet.” Stiles continued walking into the woods, but he no longer heard the familiar footfall beside him, and when he turned around Derek was scowling at nothing in the distance.

“What’s wrong lassie? Timmy down the well?” He heard Scott’s snort over the line, obviously knowing that wasn’t meant for him, but Derek ignored him all together. “Sourwolf?” Complete silence.

“Stiles is something wrong? What’s going on?” He could hear the panic in Scott’s voice but didn’t respond as he watched Derek close his eyes and strain to hear something in the distance.

“Derek--”

“Stiles run.” Derek’s eyes snapped open, shining their brilliant blues before he dashed off into the direction of woods he was scowling at moments before.

“Stiles! What the hell--”

“Scotty I’m gonna have the call you back.” Stiles hung up the phone, shoving it in his pocket as he blindly followed Derek’s retreating form, who was in pursuit of something that probably wanted them both dead. Just another day in Beacon Hills.

Stiles almost lost Derek in the dark until he heard a low growl coming from a couple yards away and followed to the best of his human vision. He didn’t know what to expect but whatever it was set Derek on edge, and Stiles knew that it wasn’t friendly.

He stumbled over the undergrowth of the preserve, grabbing onto a tree for balance and he didn’t have to see to know where he was going any longer. He had seen this part of the preserve too many times, mostly in his nightmares, and sure enough as he kept stumbling through the woods he came into the clearing containing the nemeton.

His eyes locked onto who Derek had the I-will-rip-your-throat-out-with-my-teeth growl, a cloaked figure who by the looks of it, was wearing a witches hat. Of course his presence was made known when Derek’s growl cut to him with blazing eyes, which rude, he was here to help.

“Stiles get out of here!” His voice was low, coming from all fangs as the figure moved away from Derek and closer to him.

“Calm down, dog. I don’t mean any harm to you or your human.” The figure spoke, a girl now that Stiles’s eyes had adjusted just enough could make out.

“What are you doing here. What do you want with the nemeton.” Stiles rolled his eyes as Derek growled the demands, not even questions, to the girl.

“What do I want with it? What did you do to it?” She snapped, stepping closer to Derek and Stiles already saw how this was going to go. Derek would snap back, shit would go down, and he’d have to save Derek’s ass again, because the sourwolf didn’t know how to be polite.

“What my friend is trying to ask is.. What are you doing out here with the nemeton? Are you another Darach? Because fuck.. I can’t take anymore human sacrifices after the last couple months I’ve had.” Stiles forced a laugh as the girl turned all her attention to him, causing Derek to shift closer if she decided to make a move.

Maybe that was a bad idea.

“Stiles--”

“You’ve faced a darach?” The girl asked, and Stiles just shrugged.

“All in a day's work protecting the hellmouth that is Beacon Hills.” The girl took a couple steps toward him which earned another growl from Derek.To be fair, he did not think this through.

“That’s close enough.” Stiles didn’t flinch as the girl laughed freely, as if she wasn’t scared by his threats, which made her ten times more terrifying. He has been on the other side of Derek’s threats, they are scary, or were, back when the wolf was slamming him into walls and steering wheels.

“Quiet mut. I am talking to the spark. What is your name?” Stiles was confused at what she called himself, trying to recall where he had heard the term before.

“Deputy Stilinski. Son of the sheriff and member of the McCall pack.. So whatever your business here--”

“My business is of no harm to you or your wolves, Spark.” Stiles watched her come forward slowly until she was close enough to extend her hand. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and we need to talk.”

He cut his eyes to Derek, who was no longer wolfed out and coming to stand beside him with daggers aimed at the mystery girl. He looked back to see her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in question or annoyance, he couldn’t quite tell. Stiles didn’t move though, just looked to Derek again who seemed just as confused as he was.

He really hated mischief night.

So.. friend or foe? Or is it just to early to tell? Comments always welcome <3

If you’d like to be added to the updates for this series, my tag list is here :)

Tag List: @redsalv20 @shimmeringstardustandmagnolias @kazuha159 @99percentchanceofbeingright @mischiefandi

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski x reader #witch!reader #spark!stiles #deputy!stiles #stiles stilinski fanfiction #dylan obrien characters #mitch rapp #American Assassin #the first time #dave hodgman #the internship #stuart twombly #derek hale #platonic sterek #witches

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thiswarisours-rp · 5 years

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PAST ➜

STUART TWOMBLY was born as Dymek Stuart Stilinski to CLAUDIA andNOAH STILINSKI one fateful night, alongside his twin brother Mieczyslaw “STILES” STILINSKI. He was born in a hospital, like most children are brought into this world. Him and Stiles looked the same in almost every way; the only way they could be picked apart was by the different designs of constellations of moles and freckles that danced across their identical porcelain flesh. They were both beautiful. But, there was a problem. One of the two was critically ill. Young Stuart’s lungs hadn’t developed to a point where they could sustain life on their own. They had the baby on a ventilator for a week and a day until he could struggle no more and his own organs failed on him – the young life cut short before it could barely begin. It had been devastating to the young couple, so much so that they never told Stiles he had been born with a second half – and already began to erase the evidence that they had been planning on twins. From the start, Stuart was erased from memory. Around this time, there was a witch coven that was crawling among Beacon Hills – and they felt a spark of magic inside Beacon Hills Memorial. Stuart was born like his brother, with magic. Of course, a witch is never aware of their magic until they spark. The witches took the baby away from the morgue – sparking the magic within in as life was breathed back into the twin. Albeit, before they could continue with whatever plans they had for this child – no doubt ill willed – a couple of solo practitioners heard word of their crime and took the poor child out from under them; raising him like their own, since they could not send him back to his parents – as he was legally dead in Beacon Hills. Using their resources, they created a life for Stuart Twombly. Sending him to public school, and raising him in their craft – and, as with anything, Stuart caught onto his powers like a fish in water. Stuart doesn’t have memory of his birth parents, or brother – he was raised to only know of the adopted parents who reared him. They did, at least, always tell him he was adopted; they told him it was a closed adoption and they never even met the birth parents. Stuart never had any reason to not believe them. He was insanely smart, but never as social as the kids around him. He went to public school, and preferred to spend his time with his nose in a book instead of on the playground with the other kids. He preferred to study his craft when he was alone – and, around others, he studied technology. Aside from magic, Stuart was constantly amazed by technology – watching it boom and grow as he grew with it. He was extremely proficient with computers from a very young age, and – once he got into high school – began to think about majoring in computer sciences once he got to college. However, once he did graduate, he was on - instead - a fast track to being picked up by the FBI. Not for crimes he had committed, but instead for the promise they saw in him and his particular …. frowned upon skills on the computer.

NOW ➜

When Stuart finally graduated high school, his mind was more so set upon the offer he had been given when his family home was left in ashes. Everything he knew in life crumbled like the foundation of his home in one night – a full coven of witches showing up to the crime scene in the cold of night, the boy shivering despite the flames as the leader sneered at him and revealed to him out of anger the circumstances of his birth, rebirth, and removal from the hospital. Stuart, instead of joining them out of spite like they hoped, fled away from them and never looked back to his hometown. For a few weeks, he settled down in a hotel – and once the sheer shock wore off and instead turned into frustration and rage, he began to use his skills to try and find his birth family. It took him a few months, as he really had no starting point – but, using facial recognition on himself and turning to facebook, he found his brother. He had a brother.And, from there, he started his journey to Beacon Hills, California. However, once he arrived, things had already begun to fall apart. He had heard whispers on the deeper parts of the internet of the supernatural beginning to leak – but he thought it was hearsay. By the time he got there, things were in chaos. So, he went into hiding – finding an abandoned home of supernaturals that had been killed in action, he hunkered down in the home and did what he did best; he watched the world begin to change from behind a computer screen. It was about five months later that he came across the rebellion and got in contact with a man named Alan Deaton – ducking and sliding his way into their hidden mainframe and introducing himself simply as THE PARIAH. He wanted to help them, especially since their records showed that his twin brother was among their ranks. It took a while for the leaders of the group to trust him, but he became their hidden eyes and ears when it came to the local government – from supply lines, to their members slipping in and out from topside. Stuart did what he could from his spot in the shadows. Mostly keeping in contact with STILES STILINSKI, DANNY MAHEALANI, and Deaton. He was able to keep this up for about four years – in fear of even leaving his shelter. For one, he was an unregistered witch. And for two, he shared the face of Stiles Stilinski; and it was a small town. He would be found quickly. However, despite how careful and cautious he was with his snooping – he grew careless one day. As his computer began to freeze and crash, Stuart’s heart crashed to his feet. After four years, he had been compromised. He snatched his phone and downloaded what information he could without leaving bread crumbs behind before fleeing the building and setting it aflame – a bitter reminder of his family home as the flames licked up the evidence of his residence there. Stuart was always being erased. The Pariah has been compromised and has left for the Underground. It was a simple text he had sent to Alan Deaton and attached were coordinates for one of their scouts to meet him at so that they could take him into the arms of the rebellion, like they had been asking him for so long to do – finally ready for the backlash he would receive because of his blood.

➜ STUART TWOMBLY IS TAKEN!

#dylan o'brien #teen wolf rp #stilinski twins #tw rp #tw roleplay #stuart twombly #taken #takenm

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perlocutionary · 6 years

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Notorious, Epilogue - Stuart Twombly

Description: Who knows what’s happened if we hadn’t be so similar. Relationship: Fuckboy!Stuart Twombly x Reader

Word count: 3088

A/N: Thank you so much for sticking by me while I’ve written this little thing about our boy Stuart. This is the end, and tbh, I’m ready for more and new exciting things to come along. But this probably won’t be the last of him :-)

Part 14 - Epilogue

Sweat drips down my forehead as I haul another box up from my car, perching it up on my hip as I gauge its weight. I growl when I realize it’s once again going to be a one-box-trip upstairs, and I wipe my arm along my sweat-beaded forehead before I hobble toward the entrance of my new home.

I feel the muscles in my arms and back strain when I crane my neck to see where the small steps are located, taking my time to step over them and make a right turn into the living room. My gaze trails over the spacious room for the third time since I’ve started hauling my things in, sighing at the sobriety of it all.

As soon as I got the chance, I had to personalize it. I bend down to flip open the sturdy cardboard box, groaning loudly when I see it holds my toiletries and other bathroom necessities. “I’m not taking that upstairs right now… Fuck no.” I chuckle when I realize I’m talking to myself, pushing the box over to the stairs with my foot as I turn back out the front door.

The sun was blistering overhead, reminding me once more of the permanent decision I decided to make – but for my life to move forward the way I wanted to, it was sort of obligatory.

My shirt sticks to my skin in all unpleasant ways as I stumble my way back to the opened trunk of my car, but I take some time to look around the neighborhood. It was pleasant, lots of greenery surrounding us, and the houses were in pristine shape.

My gaze falls onto a tan, buff male standing in the front yard beside my new home, and I lift my hand over my sunglasses-covered eyes to stare at him briefly. He seems to spot me and waves joyfully, taking a few steps up to the fence.

“Hi! Are you the new neighbor?”

I grin, pushing my hair out of my eyes as I meet his vibrant smile.

“In the flesh.”

He holds his hand out for me to take, and I let my hand slip in his as the male speaks up again. “I’m Tyler. I’ve met your roommate already. Nice guy, bit weird though.” He shrugs his shoulders and I have to suppress the snort that wants to slip me, shaking my head lightly.

I cannot suppress the smirk that breaks through though as soon as our hands drop. I nervously run my fingers along my neck, tapping against the heated skin as I mumble my response.

“He’s all good, I promise.”

His smile is contagious, and it reminds me of Sarina, and how I should definitely let her know about the handsome, tan young man that lives next door. As soon as I’m certain Tyler doesn’t have a girlfriend. I should call her soon, let her know that I’ve arrived safely and to ask how she’s doing. She wasn’t too keen on me moving over here and leaving her.

“Alright. Nice to meet you, …?”

I’m pulled from my trance and I smile apologetically as I grip the pristine white fence between my fingertips. “Y/N.”

I push myself off the fence and back toward my car, snapping the hair tie around my wrist to wrap my hair up as much as I could, one strand out of my face was even enough. It was going to take some time getting used to the warmth of the sun shining on my face.

Tyler demands my attention again as he speaks up, his head jotting to the car still piling with boxes to be unpacked.

“Y/N. Do you need some help?”

My gaze flicks from Tyler to my car and back, and for a moment I contemplate letting him help me out. But, even though I was groaning and moaning the whole damn time, I enjoyed moving into my first home after college, and I wanted to live the experience myself. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

My friendly neighbor hums and nods his head, waving as he starts to make his way back inside his own home. “I’ll see you around.”

I started to wonder when it wasn’t just solely me on the property anymore. It had reached well past five and my stomach already started to rumble with the heavy exercise throughout the afternoon. My mouth salivated as my mind went on a free run, imagining all the dinners that I could have tonight. Although I’m pretty sure it would resort to me eating a half-stale sandwich.

There was a part of me that wondered if it was a good thing to come out here. I didn’t have a job – yet – and my prospects just weren’t all that high at the moment. At this point in my life, I couldn’t sustain myself one bit. I couldn’t shake the feeling. Because sometimes, when you feel like you’re doing the right thing, you’re inevitably not.

My body turns rigid when I feel a set of cold hands run along my side, and I shoot up into an upright position as I feel the fingers squeeze my hips. It’s when I smell his cologne that my body immediately relaxes, my shoulders falling against his chest as he presses his lips to my shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re moving in with me.”

He hums against my skin and I turn in his embrace, catching our lips together in a welcome-home-kiss that I didn’t know could hold as many sparks as the first time I’ve experienced the pressure of his soft, pink lips.

The kiss breaks and a shit-eating grin is permanently etched onto my lips.

“You didn’t leave me much choice otherwise, babe.”

I pat his chest affectionately, stepping around the boxes piling up in the living room and making my way back outside. I feel his heavy footsteps thump behind me rhythmically, his voice scraped loudly as he seems nervous to speak his next words. And as soon as he does, I know why.

“My colleagues want to meet you. They don’t believe I have an actual girlfriend.”

The groan that slips me is anything but involuntary. I was so damn tired already and I craved an evening on the sofa with my boyfriend – whom I hadn’t seen in over a month now.

“Stu…” His fingers start kneading the tense flesh of my shoulders, his lips peppering kisses to anywhere within his reach. He was trying to bribe me, but his touching only made me realize how much I was craving him – and then other people in the vicinity is the last thing I need.

“You won’t have to do anything all evening, just sit back and enjoy. I’ll take care of everything, I promise.” The emphasis is on his promise and I feel myself cave just the littlest bit to make him happy – although that thought quickly wanders away when I feel his hands ghost along my abdomen.

“But the whole house is covered in boxes. I’m not doing all of this today, y’know?”

My hand raises to point at the pile of boxes still in the trunk of my car, followed by an aggravated sigh. Stuart chuckles against my skin, pulling my frame flush against his as he rocks our bodies back and forth.

“Who cares?”

A low grumble shows my reluctancy to the whole ordeal.

“They’re very well aware that you’re moving in today, Y/N.”

He tries again, and I feel my determination flutter with every thumping heartbeat I feel against my back. It felt nice to be in his arms again.

Stuart’s voice drops into a low whisper as his bottom lip brushes against the shell of my ear.

“Please? I’ll give you a full body massage once we’re alone.”

The promise of Stuart’s hands on me after a month apart is enough to make my wall crumble.

“Ugh. Fine.”

A harsh kiss is pressed to my cheek as my boyfriend easily grasps two large boxes, trudging inside swiftly and leaving me with one of the remaining boxes. “You’re the best.”

*****

Meeting the entire group Stuart had spent an entire summer with, was eventful to say the least. Little did I know that this particular group brought out Stuart’s sarcastic side even more than I could’ve ever anticipated, and I loved watching him blossom and snark with his friends.

I had heard about crazy, and about crazy horny, but seeing a face to those nicknames was special to say the least. It was an odd group together, but somehow, they worked. I already found a great friend in Neha after half of the evening, and I didn’t know Billy and Nick where such good salesmen to begin with.

I lost count how many times they did check if I was Stuart’s girlfriend though. Apparently, in the beginning of their internship, Stuart had been an introvert who spoke to no one. The fact that he had blossomed so much after the internship and the stories I had to tell them about Stuart’s doings in college, I had a chance to blow their mind.

“I hope I’m not crossing any boundaries here…” I mumble, fidgeting with my fingers in my lap as I gaze from them toward Billy. He hums, swallowing the remainder of his beer.

“Shoot.”

“I – In what – how did you even think of applying for this internship?”

When I see the tiniest hint of a frown appear I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He seems to reminisce about prior times, before his job, and he grins when something sparks in his memory.

“I wanted to have a life that I was excited about, and that’s great.”

I hum, smiling at my boyfriend as I get another cocktail handed to me, the sweetness wafting into my nostrils and making my body buzz.

“I’m sure you’ve accomplished that.”

*****

The second everyone mentioned they should get going, my body exploded in fireworks and I had to try my absolute best to remain my stoic composure instead of showing just how elated I was. Don’t get me wrong, each and every single one of Stuart’s co-workers were such friendly, interesting people – and they did get Stuart to look up from his phone once in a while – but I felt the life drain out of me with every moment that has passed ever since my arrival.

I had opened up a bit toward Billy throughout the evening, expressing my concerns of living here and sharing my life with Stuart while I still had no job to look forward to. How I had once dreamed for myself to fly across the world to do what I love, and instead, falling flat on my face and doing interview after interview – without one being fruitful.

“Hey, Y/N.” Billy catches my attention and I whip around from Stuart’s embrace, smiling when I see Nick and he approach us. His arms are thrown around my shoulders briefly as he squeezes so tightly I’m momentarily restricted from any breathing. He holds me at arms’ length as dad-mode comes out.

“Don’t worry about it too much. There’s a great big world out there, my friend.”

I smile at his kind words and I feel Stuart’s hand rest on my lower back again when I open my mouth to reply, but Nick beats me to it.

“Just three inches up, right?”

I’m taken aback by such a random comment.

“What?”

Stuart is quick to step away from me, elbowing Nick in the ribs as his frown is ever-so-prominent. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see the blaze behind Stuart’s eyes.

“That’s a story for a different time, right Nick?”

As he rubs the sore spot Stuart had just created, his eyes flick from Billy to my boyfriend before landing on me. He tries to pull off the most innocent smile, but I can’t help but smirk as realization strikes him that he’s gotten caught. “Uh – yeah. Yeah.”

We wave them out, all others already left, and I let the loudest groan slip from my lips as soon as our front door lips closed. “God.” My fingers are ferociously wiping at my eyes, my feet without a second thought carrying me toward the bed room. I didn’t have time yet to unpack my clothes, and I wasn’t keen on trying to find a pajama now – I was a mess.

I feel Stuart’s presence behind me as I discard my jeans, dropping the heavy material to the floor in a hollow thud. I’m caught in the removal of my Stuart when I hear Stuart’s voice pipe up again from the other side of the room.

“Thank you.”

I hum, tossing my shirt onto the floor next to my jeans. This bed looked amazing.

“For what?”

I drop onto the bed, watching Stuart rid himself off all his clothing as he strolls toward the bed in his mere boxers. Stuart always had been and was a sight for sore eyes. “For compromising. I know you’re tired.”

I shift onto the bed, rolling over onto my stomach as I push my hands underneath my pillow. My eyes already droop closed, my voice mumbled as I feel my lips constricted by pressing up against the cotton pillow case.

“Just be damn glad I love you.”

I feel the bed shift underneath Stuart’s weight and I sigh contently when I realize he is true to his words. He shifts onto my ass, his pointer finger dragging along my spine before it stops at the clasp of my bra.

“Mhm.”

The material snaps loose from my body and I groan, shifting alongside Stuart to help him rid me of the material.

Stuart’s hands are cold against my tensed back, his fingertips firstly ghosting along the inflamed skin. A groan slips me once more when his fingers start kneading my shoulders, his thumbs digging into the flesh in a circular motion.

“Mhm.” I praise him one-worded, my body sinking into the mattress as I feel myself relax completely.

“Good?” Stuart questions as his hands run along the sides of my back, fingernails scratching in his wake. Another mumble slips me as I squeeze my eyes closed when I feel his knuckles run along my spine.

“Mhm.”

When Stuart reaches a particular tense spot, my ass rolls up, pressing against Stuart, and all of a sudden, I don’t feel so tired anymore. Stuart chuckles at my movements, his hands leaving my naked upper body to grasp my butt cheeks firmly. He starts kneading the soft flesh, causing a loud, deliberate moan to slip me.

“How I’ve missed the sound of that.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his words as I cock my head up, grinning at my boyfriend as he stills his movements. He sits back, his fingers tapping against my ass as he grins bashfully.

“Can I taste you?”

My eyes roll into the back of my head at the promise of Stuart between my legs and I drop my body, turning around underneath his hips pinning me down.

“Mhm.”

Stuart’s fingers hook into the waistband of my underwear, his whole body scooting back on the mattress as he starts dragging the remainder of clothing from my shivering frame.

“It’s been too damn long, Y/N.”

I squirm in anticipation, lifting my hips up from the mattress and I roll against Stuart’s hand cupping my core.

“I missed the way you writhe beneath me when I touch you exactly right.”

He dismisses his whole hand for a lone finger, lowly putting pressure on my clit – erupting a loud moan from my parted lips.

“How responsive your body is to the things I do to you. How you bite your lip whenever you look down.” Just as I look down, Stuart’s words leave his lips and I’m caught in my act. A blush overtakes my features as I drop my head back down, gaze firmly fixated on the eggshell ceiling.

He leans down, his lips dangerously close to where I want and need him most, his finger circling my entrance. He stops all movements all together as he lifts his head, our gazes meeting. The small smile that I’m granted with causes my heart to swell.

“Come to think, if I never wavered and took you home, I wouldn’t be able to feel your body shake beneath my fingertips. I wouldn’t have ever felt your warm mouth enveloping my cock.”

“That would’ve been such a shame.”

Stuart grins devilishly as he bends back down and licks a long, bold stripe along my folds. I feel my whole body shudder at the one movement but I don’t get any breathing time as Stuart’s lips suck around my clit as he pushes a finger in.

“Oh – Stu – “

He groans against my clit, the vibrations leading me to squirm underneath him. One of his hands keeps me tied to the mattress underneath his firm hold, his other hand rapidly pumping in and out of my throbbing core.

I’m writhing, moaning, and begging Stuart to touch me as he keeps his relentless pace, alternating between mumbling against my clit and spelling out his entire name. It’s when his teeth lightly nibble on my already swollen clit, I’m a goner. My vision turns black as stars appear before my tightly squeezed-closed eyes, my hands fisting the sheets as I ride out my high against Stuart’s face.

He pulls away completely to give me time to get down from my sensitive high, sitting back on his knees. He starts stroking my thighs and knees in circular motions as I regain my breathing.

When I move him onto his back, my lips waste no time to peppers kisses along his collarbones and starting to make my way down. I feel the bulge in his underwear strain against my ribs, my fingernails scratching along his waist in anticipation.

Before I can reach the one place I had masturbated about oh-so-many times, Stuart’s hands stop me.

“There’s plenty of time for that still. You can thank me in the morning.”

He pulls me up against his body, drawing the duvet over the both of us in a swift motion as I settle into a more comfortable position.

“If you say so.” A yawn slips me, my body shivering as I involuntarily steer closer toward Stuart’s unclothed upper body.

My mom always told me that opposites attract. But, in hindsight, if Stuart and I weren’t even remotely similar, I would’ve never considered the rest of my life.

Forever tag: @flirtstiles @mischiefandi @ssweet-empowerment @fuckwhateverfuck @behind-my-hazeleyes27 @itsbilescallmebiles @7e6205 @daddyxraeken @lovelynerdytraveler @redstringlovers @suggsmate @dylxnob @bojabee @beingafangirlistheonlylifestyle @voidkitsune24

Stuart tag: @sataninsatin @cece-lives-here @dancingalone21 @europha @letmebeyoursforever @voidwriter @anneistrash @thesecretlifeofmeinmyhead @acambridge

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mf-despair-queen · 7 years

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Cheer Up, Buttercup - Stuart Twombly

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Stuart Twombly/Reader

Word Count: 2,871

Warnings: Fluffy Goodness

Notes: @ninja-stiles was having a bad day, so I told her I would write her some fluffy goodness to cheer her up. I hope this cheers you up, babe. Remember, you mean the world to us. Don’t ever forget that. PS. This is NOT proofread because it’s 5:30 and I need sleep. WHOOPS.

A heavy sigh left your lips and you jogged up the stairs to the Team Lyle workroom, already an hour late. You were mentally trying to prepare for the earful Lyle would deliver before apologizing profusely for being a bad manager or some shit. Just another thing to add to your list of problems: Trying to convince Lyle he isn’t the loser manager he will claim he is.

You were thankful you had the job in the first place. You were sure walking into the Google headquarters on the first day of the internship that you were not going to make the cut. You weren’t nearly smart enough as the others, or so you always believed. Your whole life was one rough patch after another, your self-confidence dwindling into a pile of confetti that was blown to the wind long ago. You hated that aspect of yourself honestly, but after years of being overlooked by others, it takes a toll on your mind.

The first time you sat in the room with Lyle and the “leftovers,” you lost the only remaining hope you had. You had gone unnoticed by the others in the internship during the team selection process, inevitably added to the group of misfits you sat with now. The way everyone interacted depressed you greatly, and you felt that overwhelming feeling of not belonging.

You were surprised when you began to connect to the others over the time in the internship, especially your favorite glasses-wearing nerd by the name of Stuart Twombly. You were, for reasons unbeknownst to you, the first person he truly talked to, putting his phone down so he could have a proper conversation with you. You slowly warmed up to the goofball, a small glimmer of hope filling your insides.

Your mood improved over time, peaking when you were announced as the winners of the internship. For the first time in forever things seemed to be looking up. You had developed friendships that you felt could last forever. You had experienced things not many college kids could say they have done. You had gotten a job at Google. I mean seriously, how cool is that?

The best, but also worst, feeling you had discovered over time had been your growing crush on Stuart. You always felt this twinge in your gut when you were near him, your insides fluttering whenever he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. Warmth spread through your body when he held your hand under the table during lectures, though your dubbed it as a sign of an intense friendship, assuring yourself he would never like you more than a friend. You continuously ignored the spark you felt whenever his skin met yours, a tingly sensation running through your being, and your heart hammering against your chest whenever your eyes met his. So, the night you wound up in a strip club instead of a dance club showed you the truth.

It started out perfectly fine, sharing shots with the team, relaxing as a means of team bonding. But it all changed when Billy and Nick started arranging for Yoyo and Stuart to have lap dances. You slunk off to the side, biting t your nail eagerly, eyes transfixed on the beanieless head of Stuart. Neha sauntered over, nudging your side, giving you a look.

“What?” You asked, never taking your eyes off the boy across the club, noting the crooked glasses from the frenzy of the lap dance.

“You know what,” Neha retorted, your head finally turning to her. “You like him, girly. And you’re jealous right now.”

You snickered lowly, shaking your head. “We’re just friends, Neha. Nothing more, nothing else.”

“You want it to be more, though,” she mumbled. You stayed silent, turning your head back to Stuart. Neha watched you gnaw on your lip before finally grabbing your arm, tugging you away to the bathroom. You stumbled in the heels you were wearing, Neha slamming the door shut behind you. She shoved you against the sink, crossing her arms. “Alright, spill. You and Stuart, go.”

You shrugged, fingers drumming against the counter. “There is nothing to say, Neha. We are just friends!” You told her, ignoring her gaze. “He is just a friend that makes me very happy.”

Neha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Alright, let me try to dissect this problem. I’ve read enough fanfiction and hentai to know when a girl has feelings for a guy,” she huffed aloud, looking at you up and down. “Tell me if you are exhibiting any of the follow symptoms. Fluttery feeling in your gut? Happiness when you are around him? A spark when he touches you? Rapid beating of the heart whenever you see the biggest dick of our team?” You nodded at each of her items, Neha’s mouth falling open, slightly squealing. “Girl, you got a ginormous case of “I’m crushing on Stuart Twombly” and I hate to tell you this, but there is no cure.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the counter. “You’re insane. I do not, in any shape or form have a crush on Stuart. Now can we get back out there and dance before the guys get us kicked out? Because you know they will fuck up at some point.”

Neha sighed, following you out of the bathroom. You took long strides towards the couches your team had gotten earlier, Stuart now alone, drinking a beer. His eyes locked with yours, smiling as he pulled the bottle from his lips. A dark blush spread across your cheeks as he waved, your thoughts drifting to how sexy he looked when he was drinking. You stopped in your tracks, outside of Stuart’s earshot. Neha stopped beside you, looking at your face closely.

“Neha,” you whispered, her head cocking to the side. “I hate when you’re right. I like Stuart Twombly.”

You kept your feelings on the down low, ignoring the burning hole in your heart whenever you looked at him sitting across from you at work. You tried taking the year back at school after the internship to sort out your feelings, silently praying they would vanish. But whenever his name popped up with a new text, or you would agree to skype him, those feelings would return, stronger every time. You were in deep, and there was no escaping.

Neha was right. There was no cure for this.

Now, back to today. Today was the type of day that anything and everything went wrong. You were on the verge of a mental breakdown and you had only been awake for a few hours. It was only ten A.M., and you had the rest of the day cramped in Team Lyle’s office to deal with more pitfalls you were bound to crash into.

All heads snapped in your direction when you slunk into the office, Lyle’s face holding a prominent frown. “You’re late. What happened? You didn’t even call,” he rambled. You muttered an apology, sitting in your desk chair, placing your stuff on your desk. “Are you alright, Y/N? Am I being a bad-“

You cut him off, shaking your head profusely. “You are not a bad manager. Don’t even start. I’m just… having a very bad morning. I would have called if my phone decided it didn’t want to fall out of my pocket as I got into my car this morning,” you told him, holding up the broken phone, screen shattered into a million pieces.

Lyle nodded, assuring it was alright this time, leaving you with a “warning,” if that’s what you want to call it. You sighed, cracking open your laptop, seeing the blue screen in front of you. You groaned loudly, basically slamming your hands on the keyboard. “Are you serious? You have got to be kidding me,” you mumbled. Stuart, who was sitting across from you, looked at your curiously.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” He asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. You ran a hand through your hair, ignoring his question as you tried to fix your computer. Your attempts were getting worse, the banging getting louder. Stuart got up from his seat, walking around your desk and grabbing your hands. You glanced up at him, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. “Hey. Calm down. It’s going to be alright.”

You shook your head, a few stray tears leaking down your cheeks. “No, it’s not. Everything wants to go wrong today.”

Stuart wiped the tears from your cheeks, glancing around the room. He grasped your hands tightly, pulling you up from your seat. “Hey guys, we’ll be right back,” Stuart uttered to the others, Lyle seeing the frown on your face. He gave a thumbs-up, Stuart leading you out of the room, towards the closest unoccupied conference room. He locked the door so no one would disturb you, placing you in the plush conference chair. “Alright, spill. What’s wrong?”

You huffed, wiping at your eyes, trying not to ruin your make up. “What isn’t wrong today? I woke up to a note from my roommate saying that she had moved out because she decided to elope with some guy she met two days ago. I can’t afford my rent by myself, so I have two weeks to figure out what to do. And my rent just went up too! There was a notice on my door this morning about it! Then, I went to shower, and our water heater was broken, so I had to take an ice-cold shower. As soon as I got out, my power went out because some moron crashed his car into the transformer, taking out the block. My phone is shattered, like I showed Lyle. I had to jumpstart my car, which took forever, then I got stuck in traffic! Parking was packed, and now my computer won’t start!”

Stuart sighed, kneeling in front of you, rubbing his thumbs over the skin of your hands. “Hey. It’s alright. It’s just one bad day. Things will get better.”

You solemnly chuckled, shuffling in your seat. “You see, this isn’t the only bad day I’ve had. I was out with some of my friends from Berkley the other night, and I completely didn’t fit in. They forgot I was even there. Let alone the fact that they are all getting married or pregnant or in a relationship in general. And here I am, my ugly self, no one ever wanting to date me. I’m going to die an old cat lady. I always feel like I don’t fit in with people, even when I’m here. Always getting overlooked for the things I do, and I never do anything right. I just… I can’t take it.”

Stuart sighed, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Hey, cheer up, buttercup. It may seem bad now, but things will only get better. Don’t let those things bother you. Most of the things you just said aren’t true anyway. You aren’t ugly in the slightest.”

You laughed, pushing his hand away. “You don’t need to lie to cheer me up, Stu.”

“Who said I was lying?” He muttered, pushing some loose hair behind your ear. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know. Why would I ever lie to you? You’re gorgeous, inside and out.” You smiled faintly, Stuart smiling the rare smile you loved. “There’s the lovely smile. Just cheer up, alright babe? Don’t let the little things get to you. You are wonderful. I know you told me once that you had serious self-confidence issues, which I have told you multiple times is insanely stupid because you are perfect the way you are, but I assure you, you don’t need to worry. You’re important to us, to your team. Lyle recognizes everything you do. We all do, even if we don’t say it aloud. We wouldn’t be able to finish things without you. You don’t need to be anyone but yourself, alright?”

You smiled a little wider, pulling Stuart into a hug. “Thank you, Stu. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

You felt Stuart stiffen slightly, hugging back slowly. “Anything for you. Now, you go get cleaned up and I will get your computer running, okay?” You nodded, wiping your eyes when you pulled from the hug. “Good. I will see you back in there soon.” With that he trotted off, leaving you alone.

God, why is he so perfect?

Stuart was able to get your computer running, trying to keep you calm whenever another bad thing seemed to happen. You were thankful for his constant support, but your depression was slowly growing. You kept asking yourself when something was going to go right, which the world replied with a big fat “never” because Stuart had excused himself early from work, leaving you alone.

It took you an extra hour to get home, considering your car stalled on your four times on the drive. You trudged into your apartment, the power still off from the accident that morning. You sighed, knowing all of your food in your fridge and freezer would be spoiled, two hundred dollars’ worth of groceries down the drain. You collapsed on your couch, staring at the dark ceiling.

“Why me?” You asked into the nothingness, running your hands over your face. “What did I do to deserve this? Why can’t anything go right?”

You hadn’t been home for long when the doorbell rang. You groaned, rolling off the couch, shuffling to the door. Opening it slowly, your neighbor, an older gentleman by the name of Eric, was in front of you. He was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and not just any flowers.

Buttercups.

Eric smiled, holding the flowers out to you. “A nice young man said to deliver these to you. Said you were having a bad day and needed a pick me up.”

You giggled, taking the flowers gently. “Thank you, Eric. I appreciate it.” He nodded, walking down your driveway quickly. You brushed your fingers over the flowers, taking the note that was bundled in the petals. You read over the neat writing multiple times, processing the words.

I hope these bring a smile to your face like you bring one to mine. When you are done, meet me in your backyard. And remember, Cheer Up, Buttercup.

You carefully placed the flowers on your counter, making a mental note to put them in a vase later. You made your way to your backyard, finding Stuart sitting in a chair near the pool. His head turned in your direction when he heard the glass door slide open and closed, a smile on his face.

“There’s my girl. Did you like my present?” He asked, standing up as you neared him. You nodded calmly, a smiling growing on your cheeks.

“I did. It was really sweet of you. Is that why you left early?” You asked, Stuart winding his arms around your waist.

“It may be part of the reason. I just needed to do something to bring a smile to your face. I can’t have the girl I love being unhappy, right?” He paused, realizing what he said when he saw your eyes widen. “I-I mean. Fuck. Shit. You didn’t hear that. I totally didn’t mean to say that.”

Stuart kept rambling apologies, beginning to make snarky remarks in his haste. You laughed, leaning up to place a chaste kiss to his lips. He shut up immediately, feeling your soft lips against his. “You’re rambling, Stu.” He looked away, a pink hue apparent on his defined cheeks, though covered slightly by his black frames. “I didn’t know you felt that way. If I did, I would have said I loved you back a long time ago.”

He looked up at you, using one hand to ruffle his hair in disbelief. “Seriously? I’ve been silently crushing on you for you to like me back? I’m not dreaming, right?”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Stuart grinned, leaning down to place a soft, passionate kiss to your lips. You smiled, tugging him closer, eyes sliding closed at the feeling. His head was tilted to the side, enveloping your lips completely. It was a sweet kiss, Stuart pulling away slowly before attacking your lips again. Your fingers played with the hairs on the nape of his neck, moaning softly at the feeling of his lips against yours.

Stuart pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “You know,” he began, slightly breathless. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner since your power is still out. Maybe, instead, I can just ask you on a date? And maybe we can discuss all your other issues and how to solve them”

You smiled widely, pecking his lips. “I think I would really like that, Stewie.”

Stuart groan, tugging you closer. “You know I hate that name. But,” he chuckled, kissing your forehead, “I think I can make an exception for you. If it helps cheer you up, buttercup. Now, let’s get some dinner.” His hand linked with yours, leading you out to his car, satisfied with the wide smile on your luscious lips that he was responsible for.

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writingsbychlo · 7 years

Note

I have glasses and half the time I get really mixed up with words when I'm around people I'm not comfortable with butttt I love your blog so that makes everything better❤️

I let my hand run along the wall gently as I made my way through the complex, thanking god that I was well aware of my work place and I made it onto the corridor where my office was, twisting the door open and relaxing once I stepped inside.I rooted through my bag, pushing my glasses up my nose and sighing, blinking as I regained my vision, getting myself comfortable and settling at my computer. My fingers dashed across the keyboard, replying to emails, submitting forms and sending out bulletins. The day was spent with myself barricaded inside my office, comfortable in my own nature. Until lunch rolled around and I realised I had to trek out again to get food.The task was not easy, my vision blurred again as I placed the frames down on my desk, stumbling into the corridor somewhat narrowly avoiding smacking my face on the doorpost. I hadn't made it very far when Neva took up step beside me, the team joining and she sparked an easy conversation, guiding us all to the lunch hall to obtain food. I just about thought I had escaped, when she suggested we all head back to my office to eat together and have a catch up, and I couldn't refuse the excitement in her tone, dread filling me. We slowly made out way back and I quickly took my seat, pushing the glasses away to the side and carefully picking up my sandwich, eating it slowly. The group trickled out one by one and I sighed, the silence in the room making me feel much more relaxed, the door clicking shit and I swept my rubbish into the bin, placing my glasses back on my face. Turning to look around the room, I was shocked to find one Stuart Twombly with his hands stuck in the front pockets of his jeans and a smirk on his face. "That's why you've been so unstable and nervous today!" He grinned, my cheeks heating up as I lifted my fingers to delicately take them form my face when his own wrapped around my wrists, stopping me. "Don't take them off, you look beautiful. Now we match." He chuckled lightly, taking the other chair in front of my desk and straddling it backwards, letting his arms rest on the top of it and his chin rest atop them. "I do not. I dropped my final contact lenses in the sink this morning by accident and now I'm stuck wearing them. You cannot tell a soul Twombly, not one!" I threatened weakly, my cheeks still red and my heart still fluttering from his comment as he chuckled. He leaned in closer, the tip of his nose pressed against mine and I choked on my breath, his fingers now running along my cheek. "I like you better with them on." He whispered, tilting his head so his lips could meet mine and I sighed gently, a sigh leaving his lips equally in return.

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thcpariiah · 7 years

Text

file: family_matters.docx [ file 1 of 2 ]

TAGGING __ // STUART TWOMBLY, NOAH STILINSKI LOCATION __// TOPSIDE ( THE STILINSKI HOME ) TIME _ FRAME ___// RECENTLY INPUT_SUMMARY…?__// After being taken in lieu of his brother to release Stiles’ father, Stuart finally decides that it’s time to meet his birth father. Using his connections with members of Le Chassé Topside, he slips into the Stilinski home to meet him. [ PART 1 ] [ CHATZY LOG ]

Stuart

He knew that the day would come where he would be forced to see Noah -- and, unfortunately, because of his own decisions, it was to be sooner rather than later. He knew that the Sheriff of Beacon Hills knew that the man who turned himself in was not Stiles. He might look exactly like him, but Noah of all people would know the difference easily. Stuart was not raised by the man; he had different mannerisms. Different ways that he held himself. Even his vocabulary differed from the druid's. He knew that the man was currently being protected by the police department -- especially after Stuart's escape, and after his name was released to the public on the most wanted list. The Sheriff was in the Stilinski home, but had at least one or two officers guarding it at a time.

Currently, one of them was Hayden -- thankfully. Planned out prior so that Stuart could come on Topside to the privacy of the Stilinski home -- instead of forcing the man to jeopardize his safety and go Underground -- Stuart had to swallow his fear about being Topside, even with a few bruises that lingered against porcelain flesh still. Hayden barely looked at him as he tucked his beanie further around his ears, walking up the pathway to the Stilinski home -- just enough to acknowledge him, but not enough to bring attention to him. He walked up the stairs, peeking over his shoulder once more to Hayden, before he was knocking with an anxious breath.

Noah

Being shut up in his own house for days on end was not something Noah Stilinski was used to, nor did he much care to be imprisoned (the others would say he was 'protected') when he was the one that should be doing the protecting in this town. For years he had been charged with the safety and well being of everyone - and he did mean everyone - in Beacon Hills, and yes, the job had become considerably more complicated after the truth had been revealed to him, but still... the Sheriff had never been one to sit idly by while he knew there were others out there getting hurt. Others. That was a word that held new meaning these past few days. After what Noah had learned of Stiles... well...of his... double? The Sheriff had barely dared to think the impossible. It was too... unfathomable. Many things had changed beyond Noah's imagination in the past few years, but this...? No. It couldn't be. He refused to believe that the even the unknown powers of the supernatural could do... this. The knock sounded through his room and Noah groaned, "Come in," without really thinking. He assumed it was one of his 'bodyguards' - and yes, the irony of having a young woman half his age and half his size as his body guard was not lost on him.

Stuart

The witch -- when the man's voice reached his ears -- assumed that the other was not expecting a visitor such as him. And, the voice itself, the first time hearing his biological father, sent a harsh chill down his spine before he was swallowing harshly -- so harshly that it burned and ached all the way down. His breath stuttered before he was opening the door and letting himself in.

Eyes skimmed his surroundings, closing the door behind him so that he was closed off from the rest of the world, and he wondered what it was like for Stiles -- growing up here. He let out another hard breath, raking his teeth across his bottom lip before he took the plunge; voice sounding much more confident than he felt. "Noah?"

Noah: As the visitor entered, Noah looked at the door in resignation, sure that he was about to told yet another thing that he wouldn't like. He certainly hadn't expected to see the bruised and cut face staring back at him behind thick-rimmed glasses. "Wha...?" Noah began in astonishment, but any words were completely lost to him as the individual spoke. The both familiar and yet unfamiliar, voice speaking his name had been the last thing Noah had been expecting tonight. Instantly, the Sheriff stood from his desk, the plate of food still sitting there, barely touched. "You..." Noah tried to speak again, but he was once again failed. "I... yes..." He eventually managed to stagger out as he drank in a young man that was almost the splitting image of his son. There were differences, of course. Namely, the glasses, but there was also... his posture, and haircut... the placement of a mole and a smattering of freckles that were barely discernible in the dim light of his room. "And are you...I mean...?"

Stuart

An awkward air surrounded the young witch for a moment as the older Stilinski took in his appearance. He looked much better than he and when he first returned to the Underground, but he was also aware that he still looked pretty tough. He was sure that the Sheriff would make the connection that it was him who had turned himself in in lieu of Stiles to get them to release Noah.

He cleared his throat when the other seemed to struggle for words, ducking his head down with a long breath before finally returning his gaze to him. "Stuart," he supplied hoarsely. "My name is Stuart."

Noah

Since a young age, Noah had always been a man of very few words. He had grown up with a simple, unassuming life. He had done everything as a man was supposed to do. He went to school, played sport, met a girl and fell in love. His life with Claudia had never been filled with anything anyone would consider adventurous, and yet, he knew he'd been blessed with a good life. The only time that belief had faltered was the bittersweet day when his sons were born. The ache he felt in his chest at the thought of Dymek still hurt as much as the day he had lost him. But it was still the day in which his other son had entered the world. "Stuart..." the Sheriff parroted in a soft voice, staring in wonder. He could barely think, barely comprehend. "Are you... I mean... Is this real? I..." Noah took a step forward, hand reaching out as if to make sure he wasn't an apparition but he stopped short. "Son?"

Stuart

Stuart pressed his lips together. At this point, he wasn't sure still how he felt about the other man. He had never told Stiles about him. Sure, it wasn't Noah's fault that he had been raised apart. His death as a baby. His body being stolen. And the interference of the coven. None of that was Noah's fault. But -- Stiles had lived twenty two years without knowing he was born a twin.

His eyes caught the apprehension -- and Stuart had never been one of tactile needs. He didn't know how to process it. So he spoke instead with a small nod. "I was born as Dymek Stuart Stilinski. On April 8th, 1999, alongside Mieczyslaw to Claudia Stilinski. And, according to records, I died April 19th of the same year."

Noah: It was like a dream. A fantasy that Noah had never dared to hope, never dared to voice aloud. How could he? When for 17 years he had never known there was such this as werewolves, or kitsunes... or magic? As Stuart... Dymek... his son, continued to talk, accounting the beginning and supposed end of his young life, Noah felt his chest swell, the pressure almost unbearable as his eyes prickled with unbidden tears. "7 pounds, 12 ounces. The nurse...I only ever held you once and... you were so small, so... pure. It was almost like you were sleeping...I..." He took another step forward, his gaze still unable to leave the young man's face - a face he knew so well and yet not at all. "I don't understand... How are you...? How?"

Stuart

The way the other was talking -- this was not what he was expecting at all. He didn't expect this level of emotion, or the way that it tugged so painfully at his heart until he was gritting his jaw so hard that it was painful, sending shock waves down his neck as his eyes found the floor between them once again.

"My legal last name is Twombly, not Stilinski. I was raised in Del Mar, California by Darleene and Jakob Twombly. From ... from what I understand, I was stolen by a witch coven from the morgue. I'm like Stiles -- I have magic. They used my spark to bring me back, and so ---... I've always had my powers.

Noah: Dymek's - Stuart's - words were important. Noah knew that. And yet all he could focus on was that they had brought him back. As hard as it was to relive the memory that his newborn son's dead body had been stolen, there was also a part of him that was almost... grateful. He might not have been a part of his life growing up, but back then, Noah had known nothing of magic or witches, and if not for them his son would not be standing here today. He nodded his understanding, though it was still hazy. His aptitude for the supernatural hadn't really improved despite five years of knowing its existence. "And... have you been happy? I mean, other than the obvious, did they treat you well?"

Stuart

He swallowed hard and let himself stay quiet to allow the man to process it all. One big difference between himself and Stiles was his ability to let a silence linger. He didn't feel the need to fill it up with sound and words.

A breath escaped him, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Yes," he finally answered. "They were my parents. And they raised me as such. I didn't really want for much as a kid, and they always supported me. They were --" he cut himself off and didn't hide the past tense of his wording to address them.

Noah: Noah continued nodding as he took in Stuart's words, a sad smile gracing his lips. His son was alive. His son had been raised by good people. His son had been loved. But then another detail reached his mind and suddenly clearing a bit of the fog and euphoria he was feeling at this moment. "Were?" he asked cautiously, picking up on the use of past tense due to his many years as a Sheriff. "What... I mean...Did something happen?"

Stuart: He let out another long breath at the question, eyes pointedly on the floor still instead of the other man. "The coven. They came back for me. Four years ago - a few weeks before the laws were passed - I came home on night to our house in flames and no one there but the coven to greet me. So I left, and didn't look back."

Noah: "Oh, son..." Noah took another step forward, hearing the pain in the young man's words, his voice. He swallowed thickly as the realization dawned on him. "This coven... are they still looking for you? Are you in danger?" Panic and thoughts of potentially losing Stuart again just after having found him again sprang the Sheriff into action. Logically, he knew he was just as helpless against these witches as he had been against all the other supernatural demons that had plagued his town, but Noah was not going to lose his son again. No matter what.

The silly thing was, they were all in danger. That much was clear from the yellow-black bruises still marring his son's handsome face. But whoever this coven was, they had come after his son twice, and that wasn't a fact to be taken lightly.

Stuart: He let out a long and shaky breath to even out his emotions before drawing his gaze upwards to the man again - his chest feeling tight. "Like I told Stiles, even if they were looking for me, they'll never find me here. Besides, they're witches. They have a lot more to worry about now aside from me." Logically, hunting down a witch boy when the government would be breathing down their throats seemed more trouble than it was worth. "I've been helping Le Chasse for almost four years now and I've done a pretty good job of staying hidden. Being Undergroind with the others only solidifies that."

Noah: There were two revelations that hit Noah like a brick. The first was that Stiles knew. Noah and Claudia had decided after Dymek's death that to spare Stiles of any pain, they would never tell him of his brother until he was older. It wasn't a decision taken lightly, but for the happiness of their family, it had seemed right at the time. And then... when Claudia had passed... It was too hard to bear reliving the pain. The second revelation was that Stuart had been here, in town, for four years. "What?" the Sheriff asked, completely taken by surprise. "You've been hiding in the underground for that long? All by yourself?"

Stuart: He sucked in a breath at the question, shaking his head. "I wasn't in the Underground until recently," he started. "I was on Topside, in an abandoned house. For .. " he paused and gestured down at himself, " -- obvious reasons, I was hesitant to come forward to the rest of Le Chassé, afraid that they wouldn't believe who I actually am. I presented myself as The Pariah to Deaton. I was by myself Topside for four years, until a government hacker broke into my system and I was forced to leave -- by that point, Deaton at least trusted me enough to the point to let me into the Underground."

Noah: "That's... not exactly better, son," Noah replied shaking his head, trying wrap his mind around everything that had been revealed tonight. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug Stuart to him, to hold on and never let go. The last time he had held him in his arms... it had been one of the hardest moments in his life, but only because he had had to let go. Knowing that Stuart was alive and living in Beacon Hills conflicted with also knowing that he had basically been alone since arriving. It was easier, better, knowing that he had been well taken care of and happy, surrounded by warmth and love, but to be alone... in an abandoned house with nothing but a computer... Noah didn't like computers at the best of times. He couldn't think of anything worse. "So you've been helping us all this time?" he asked, a mixture of pride and gratitude written all over his face. "I wish... I wish I had known sooner. Not only that you were here, but... well..." Noah tentatively took a step forward, asking without words if he could hug his son. It was okay if Stuart rejected him, but it was something he needed to at least try, because already... it had been far too long.

Stuart

His eyebrows furrowed inwards at the other's comment. He had been lonely on his own, but - it didn't effect him like it would've most. Like it would've his brother. " -- I ... was never really good at connecting with people. On a social level, anyway. Empathy I understand -- I'm still human. I just.... - I never had too many friends, and I was okay with that," he tried to explain the best he could to the other, as if trying to ease his worries of him being alone for so long. At the next question, he nodded minutely, " -- after I lost my parents, I started looking for my birth family. I found you and Stiles here -- but, it wasn't very long after - while I was still making my decisions - that the laws were passed. Doing a little digging, I saw that Stiles was involved with the rebellion. I wanted -- Stiles is my brother, and I wanted that to mean something. I couldn't safely come forward, but I could find a way to help him and what he believed in. What I believe in to be right."

He didn't miss the tentative step forward from the other, a nasty feeling twisting in him. It was almost clinical up until this point -- making actual physical contact with the man would make this all too real. He understood, on some level, what this must be like for him. He was his biological son who he believed to have been dead, up until his point. He had watched him, as a baby, suffer until his small lungs finally gave out. Twenty two years ... -- Despite his mixed feelings for the other, and the fact that he had never told Stiles, he could let him have this. Stuart swallowed audibly before he was allowing his muscles to relax, taking a small step forward as if giving the other permission.

Noah

Noah nodded in understanding. Despite never knowing he was alive, despite never having met his brother or his mother or... him, Noah still saw a lot of the same family traits in Stuart that had been present in his family. Stiles had almost always wanted to help people, to protect others and Noah had always kind of assumed that perhaps it was because of how he was raised, watching his father be a deputy and then a Sheriff in such a small town. But perhaps, that drive, that need to keep others save was inherent. It also hurt knowing that Stuart had grown up without many friends, but then again, looking back on Stiles and Scott and how isolated the pair had been before Scott had become a werewolf, well... perhaps they were more alike than even they realized. "And I hope you know just how grateful we are; we all are. It's strange to think that all those times I asked Deaton who his source was... It was you along..." Stuart relaxed and gave no indication of stepping away, so Noah took it as a sign. He did so gently, tenderly, both because he had heard what had happened to Stiles' 'imposter', and also because flashing through his mind at that very moment, playing on a loop, was the last time Noah had held his son in his arms. "I want you to know," Noah said softly into his son's ear as he embrace him in longing hug. "Your mother and I loved you with all our hearts. There was always a piece of us - of our family - that was missing without you, and... if I had known, what you were or that it was possible you were still alive, I would have gone to the ends of the Earth to find you." Noah squeezed a little tighter, closing his eyes as tears finally began to fall. It was impossible to stop, and Noah didn't really want to. "Thanks for finding us, son... Stuart. Thanks for protecting us."

Stuart

His gaze softened slightly when Noah told him how grateful they all were for what he did. He had had a few people thank him up to this point -- but, somehow, the thanks from his biological father felt ... different. There was a warm twist in his chest, behind his ribs, that caused his head to duck down briefly.

And soon, the Sheriff was stepping forward and wrapping his arms around him -- thankfully, softly and gently as to not aggravate his still healing body. Something ... shifted inside of him at the embrace from the man. He wasn't tactile by any means, and he wasn't a hugger. But ... the emotion that was brought forth from the elder, and the way that he held him like he was made of gold -- it made Stuart's chest ache. Words failed the young magic user as he hesitated before bringing shaky hands up to wrap around the other -- to return the hug as he twisted bruised fingers into the material of his clothing. "I'm sorry ... " was all he could think to supply. He was sorry that Noah had to deal with his death; that he had to live for twenty two years still believing he had lost a son. That he had lost his wife. That he could no longer live a normal life. He was sorry. And, with this, he decided -- while part of him was upset still that Noah had never told Stiles about him -- he wanted the Sheriff to be a part of his life. He wanted a relationship with him, even if he could never view him as his actual father.

Noah: The Sheriff had never been much of a 'touchy-feely' kind of man. He loved his sons and wife with all his heart, and protected them to the best of his ability - and unfortunately, had fallen short on two counts - but he couldn't help feeling overwhelmed at the resurrection of his son. Dymek - Stuart - no matter his name, Noah couldn't even begin to express the joy he felt to know that he was alive. As Noah took Stuart into his arms, easing in to a hug that might seem strange to both of them, Noah felt like his emotions was finally getting the better of him. Even as Stuart apologized, Noah's whole body shook in protest, only pulling away so he could look his son square in the eye, not caring that his face was lined with tears. "You have nothing to apologize for," Noah replied, assertively. If anything, Noah knew he was the one to blame. For giving up too easily, for letting him be taken... They were irrational thoughts, he knew. But learning that his son was alive all this time... It was hard not to blame himself. Pulling away more, the Sheriff dragged out the chair he had been sitting on earlier, and faced it to the bed, offering either to his son. "Please, sit. I know you've had a rough couple of days."

Stuart

Despite the embrace, Stuart was almost shocked to see the tears on the other's face when he pulled away just enough to look at him and insist that he had nothing to apologize for. The more he thought about it, the more he did feel slightly guilty. He could've tried searching his birth family before he lost his parents -- it wasn't like he lacked the skills or the knowledge to do so. It was just .. before he lost his parents, he was content as he was. He had a family, and while knowing he was adopted, he was loved. And that was enough for him -- until he lost everything and then the laws were passed.

He couldn't find a response to the words, ducking his head down as he swallowed harshly around a dry throat. It was only when Noah spoke again that he brought amber back up to the older Stilinski, licking down on his bottom lip before he was nodding mutely -- taking the chair that was offered to him and shedding his jacket; more bruises against his pale arms was visible. He hesitated for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek, before he was speaking again. "I'm -- I'm probably not really who you would have wanted me to be. I'm not Stiles. And I'm sorry." Typically, it bothered him when people compared the stark differences between himself and his brother. But here in the light of his birth father ... he almost felt ... ashamed, in a way. He could blame part of it on what he went through a few days prior -- the reason for the shadows of bruises still speckled against his flesh. His walls were usually strong, but his foundation was currently shaken.

Noah

Noah frowned. At first he had been distracted by what he had seen when Stuart removed his jackets. Unable to help himself, he stared fixedly at the bruises, wondering what exactly happened after he had taken Stiles' place. But then, Stuart said something else that both shocked and saddened him. "Son, you never have to apologize for not being your brother, either," he replied adamantly, his gaze searching Stuart's and hoping to see understanding, or at the very least, acknowledgement of his words. Despite their almost identical appearances, Noah saw the differences, and although he might not be as familiar with Stuart as he was with Stiles, these differences were as unique as each of their personalities. "You know, I used to imagine you two growing up together, taking care of each other... Running around with Scott or perhaps you'd both be each other's best friend's instead. I imagined a million different scenarios. But never, never were you exactly the same as Stiles. You were your own person, and although I thought I'd never get to meet the man you'd become, I... never thought you'd be exactly the same." Noah paused, eyes traversing the visible evidence of everything Stuart had been through, and despite the ache in his heart at the thought of anyone hurting his son, a ghost of a smile appeared on the Sheriff's lips. "You're not entirely different though," he continued solemly. "You'd both sacrifice yourselves to save someone you love."

Stuart

His eyes had found the carpet for a moment, his body still as he let the words hang in the air. Unlike his brother, Stuart was perfectly capable of not filling up the space with idle movement. He didn't need constant action -- nor a constant lack of silence to be filled with words. He was content with silence, and he was content without an idle vibration of energy. But, the man was speaking again and he meet his gaze. His words did something funny to his heart -- and Stuart was quiet. He bit his tongue, not yet admitting that he too had found himself wondering what it would be like if he had been raised alongside Stiles. Likely, if things went to planned, Stuart would've sparked later in his youth like he should've. And that left him to wonder what it would've changed about his personality in general. " -- what did you imagine I would be like?" he couldn't stop himself from asking out of pure curiosity.

He let out a breath, however, when Noah spoke again -- watching the small smile feather across his expression. He didn't want to get himself into the reasonings of why he did what he did, it would only upset the man further. " .. -- Stiles is different than me. In all the best ways. He has so many things that I do not. Being a computer genius with an asshole attitude only gets you so far."

Noah: Stuart's question caused Noah to pause and contemplate for a moment. Yes, it was true, he had imagined his youngest son's personality along side Stiles'. He had wondered if he'd have two hyperactive toddlers running around or if they'd be as different as night and day. Perhaps calm and thoughtful, or cheerful and optimistic... There were so many iterations of who his son could be, but none of them mattered because none would compare to the man sitting opposite him today. "It's hard to say," Noah began, reaching up and scratching his head in thought. "Maybe more like me, than your mother. Mostly because Stiles was a lot like Claudia in her youth. She was... lively. It was hard not to get caught up in her adventures. I, on the other hand, never really talked to people unless they talked to me first. I let her drag me along to wherever she wanted to go, and I was more than happy to follow. She chose me, you know." Noah had no way of knowing what Stuart was actually like. Not yet, anyway. "I may not know you right now, and you don't know me, but I'm really looking forward to find out." "You'd be surprised how much of a... smart-alec your brother can be," Noah replied, choosing his words a little more wisely. Both of his sons might like to swear, but he was still the Sheriff after all. "And I wouldn't count yourself out. Helping complete strangers fight a battle that we probably initiated - or at the very least, brought to the attention of the government - by accident, of course... That's a pretty noble thing to do, if you ask me."

Stuart

He tipped his head with slight curiosity as the other began to speak once more, an unreadable expression across his features. " -- I was like that ... - In some ways. Because of my powers always being there, as opposed to sparking like Stiles' did, I had to learn to better control my emotions. Not - ... not bottled them up, per say. But instead control them rather than let them control me. As a kid, I misinterpreted it really and compartmentalized my emotions far too much, and a social awkwardness was kind of born out of it. At first, I did try and make friends. But it never really worked out in my favor, because everyone realized that there wasn't much that wasn't just surface deep. After a while, I stopped caring to try and make friends -- content with my books, my technology, and my parents." He wasn't telling him to gain pity -- Stuart wasn't upset over the fact that he barely had had friends. The man seemed to have an eagerness to get to know him, and Stuart just wasn't the best at finding the right words -- but he tried.

He chuckled, a soft and shallow noise that rattled in his lungs against healing ribs -- barely concealing a flinch at the action. "I know," he responded simply when he spoke about Stiles' sarcastic tendencies. "It was one of the first things that I noticed when I met him." But, his tone shifted when Noah spoke again, " -- I wasn't trying to be noble. You .. and Stiles. After my parents died and I was forced to leave my only friend behind, because she was human and I didn't want her involved -- you were both all I had left. And I sure as hell wasn't going to register myself. I've never been without my powers, and the thought alone was terrifying. It was a cause that was worth fighting for, and a way I could be closer to my brother without meeting him."

Noah

Noah nodded as Stuart described his childhood, picturing in his mind's eye what it might have been like watching him grow up. Though Noah would have had no clue how to handle the witch stuff - much like now, in fact - he still drank in each word with eager anticipation. "You're a reader?" Noah asked, hopefully. He might be hopeless with computers and technology, but Noah had always liked to read growing up. He hadn't done much reading since he'd found out about the supernatural world, but once upon a time, he had been quite the book worm. "What genres do you enjoy?" Stuart's reasoning for keeping quiet, for hiding all these years filled his heart with a deep sorrow. Perhaps even worse that any he'd felt before. It was one thing to believe your beloved son was dead, but another entirely to know he was alive and feared coming forward. Noah believed that, in part, had something to do with him. Stuart had mentioned wanting to meet Stiles, but he had not said the same of him. Noah did not miss that, and he tried not to let it cut him too deeply. "Is that why you pretended you were Stiles?" he asked, barely above a whisper. "Because..." Noah gulped visibly as he tired to find the words. "Because you didn't want him to feel like you have felt? Alone?"

Stuart

He nodded slightly when Noah asked him about books -- "I used to read a lot," he admitted, "I don't as much as I used to, but I still try to -- even Underground. To pass the time." When he wasn't with Allison. But, that about a completely different subject to broach with Noah if it came up. Him and Allison were still learning each other and how they worked together. They had just established an us, and Stuart still didn't know how to define it. "I like Science Fiction," he offered. "Asimov has always been one of my favorites."

Albeit -- when Noah's voice dropped, his own brows chased inwards and a frown formed on his lips -- not exactly keen on talking about his motivation behind turning himself in in lieu of Stiles. " .. partially," he murmured, sucking in a harsh breath. "Not all of the reason, no. I knew they would be cruel to him -- that they would hurt him and try and get whatever information they could from him about Le Chassé. And I knew that, after they took you, it was only a matter of time before Stiles bent to their will and turned himself in to make sure you were safe. Stiles has so much more going for himself than I do -- far more people who care about him. He didn't need that -- and I couldn't stomach the abuse that they would've done to him. Something had to give, so I made a decision. And -- " he sucked in a harsh breath, feathering a hand over the back of his neck where the raised brand stood out stark against his flesh, " ... despite it all -" Despite the pain and the nightmares, " -- I don't regret taking his place."

Noah

Eager to continue learning more about his son, Noah nodded. He didn't know who Asimov was, his reading habits tended more towards crime fiction and the newspaper, but he would try anything if it helped him and Stuart connect. "I, uh, I'm sorry to say I don't know who that is," Noah replied a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "What's your favorite book by them? Tell me about it." As Stuart spoke, Noah felt his heart begin to beat wildly in his chest. No matter what his son said, no matter how expendeble he thought his life was, Noah would spend the rest of his life convincing him otherwise if he had too. Noah's hand jerked forward, reaching to hold his son's in comfort. It was unimaginable, the pain Stuart went through, but the Sheriff had to know. "I know you don't regret it, but I do," Noah replied, shaking his head as horrible images bombarded his head. "I wish..." He didn't know how to continue. How could he wish that Stuart didn't step forward when Stiles would most definitely have. That would mean his other son would be all bruised and battered now. It was an inconceivable choice and it was all his fault. "Neither of you should have had to step forward. This isn't supposed to be your fight. You're still young. I could have...I could have handled whatever they threw at me." The Sheriff stared at his son's face, each bruise felt like a punch to his gut. "What did they do to you?"

Stuart

There was a small twitch of his lips that could almost be considered to be amusement when Noah told him that he didn't know who Asimov was, "You do, you just don't know you do. He wrote iRobot and Bicentennial man. Before they were movies, obviously." He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, "He's popular for his books about AIs, but my favorite is actually The Foundation Trilogy, which has nothing to do with robots."

He turned more somber, however, when Noah spoke again -- and, at the words -- almost subconsciously -- long fingers rubbed at one of his wrists, still pink and angry from the shackles. " -- it doesn't matter," was his soft response, "It is our fight. War doesn't care how old you are -- no matter what kind of war it is. It shouldn't have been your fight. They shouldn't have involved you. But they did -- although you did nothing wrong. They crossed a line that they made themselves in order to try and get Stiles into custody." It still angered him, the fact that they took the older human only because of his relation to Stiles.

Albeit, at the question, his expression darkened and his gaze fell, " - think about whether you actually want the answer to that and ask me again."

Noah

As Noah had never really been much of a movie man either, he only vaguely recognized those names. Growing up, Stiles had been more of a Star Wars kid, running around pretending to shoot lasers and dueling with... laser swords (or whatever they were). "AI?" Noah asked, a little confused. He chuckled softly as he continued to scratch his head. "A little out of my depth, I think, but I'll be sure to try it. Since it's your favorite. I'm more of a crime and thriller fiction guy, myself. Like James Patterson, or you know, Sherlock." Since Noah barely understood computers, he wasn't sure how far he'd get with science, but he would always try. Noah shook his head in resignation. He knew what Stuart was saying was correct. Men much younger than him signed up for wars and died on distant battlefields. That was exactly what Noah didn't want. He became a Sheriff to protect this town, and yet, Stuart, Stiles, Scott and all their friends were the ones fighting. Noah only had the law to guide him, and the laws of man could not govern the laws of the supernatural. Taking a long hard look at Stuart, there was no doubt in Noah's mind that he had to know. His son had selflessly taken his place to protect him. There was no question about it. "I need to know, son," he replied softly. "But only if you're willing to tell me. What... what they did to you was not right, and I... I need to know."

Stuart

"Artificial intelligence," he responded with a small curl of his lips. "Robots, basically." Stuart had never been a fan of thrillers, or crime novels. He had tried James Patterson before, but it didn't hold his interest. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle held his interest a little longer, but he became bored quickly with the stereotypical nature of it.

The witch was quiet for a long moment as Noah reiterated that he did in fact want to know what was done to him; a soft sign releasing from his lungs as he dropped his hand away from his wrist. " -- I first let them believe that I was Stiles. And, it worked - obviously, or you wouldn't be sitting here. They tried to get information about Le Chassé out of me, just as they would've done him. Their tactics aren't ... exactly humane, but that's to be expected." He rose his wrist fleetingly before lowering it and once more running his fingers over the mark -- looking at it in more detail, they were pink rings on each wrist where he had fought the shackles -- and, in the center of each ring in a smaller ring were small puncture marks. The shackles had been reinforced as also prototype-esque handicaps; used to limit his powers so that he could not defend himself if he tried. "A lot of it was just physical ... hitting, I guess." Nasty, heavy, steel toed boots that he could still feel the impact of against his ribcage. " -- one of the men, though. He had a taser wand. And he was very generous with the usage of it." Shock torture was definitely not something Stuart would've thought that they would have enforced. "After a while, I had enough. I wanted to do whatever I could to throw something back at them. So, once I knew that both you and Stiles were safe and protected, I gave them my name. They weren't going to get very far with it, anyway. Dymek Twombly was considered dead after the house fire in Del Mar, as I went into hiding shortly after. They couldn't learn what I do for the Underground with just my name. I just wanted them to discover that they had - in fact - not captured Stiles like they thought they had."

He trailed off for a moment, " .. to me, though, that wasn't the worst of it." He let it linger in the air for a moment, as if giving the man a chance to have an out. The rest of the information -- the strange metal device they wanted to put in him -- could put the Sheriff in danger just to know about it.

Noah

The tight sensation in Noah's chest as Stuart began to describe his ordeal only grew worse with each passing moment. Unable to help himself, Noah's hand took Stuart's once more, examining the pink rings - a tell tale sign of struggling against handcuffs that Noah had seen thousands of times - closely. He was grateful to whoever had cleaned Stuart up after he was rescued, but Noah was still in the dark about a lot that. His hands began to tremble, wishing there was a way to wrap his son up in bubble wrap or something and protect him from the world. Noah had failed him, yet again. The law - the government - he had once held such high esteem for the establishment and believed that his job had been one of goodness. Protect and serve. That was the motto that had been drilled into him when he was a deputy. Now... Noah felt more lost than ever. It wasn't supernatural beings that had done this to his son, it was humans. The very people who were supposedly trying to protect the community. "It wasn't...?" Noah croaked out with barely retrained sorrow. He indicated with his eyes that he wanted Stuart to continue, unable to say it out loud.

Stuart

Stuart sucked in a hard breath when the older male took his hand to look at the abuse against his wrists -- more out of skittishness than anything, still on the wrong side of jumpy after the time he had spent being held in place of his brother. But, he allowed himself to relax so that -- hopefully -- the man could find some kind of comfort out of the tactile touch; a frown twitching briefly at his lips as he didn't miss the look of guilt and other emotions that passed over the Sheriff's features.

He swallowed hard, eyes dropping. "I don't .. know too much about it. They drugged me, they were going to -- to put this thing in my head; like they did Cora -- which, I guess, is why she exposed Stiles in the first place. It was a small, metal device about the size of my palm. It's ... supposed to influence people to be conditioned to do what they want them to do. I don't know how -- they never told me that. They --" he let his voice trail off for a moment and gestured to the back of his neck where the branding was - MS-040899. Stiles' initials, as they had done it before they knew who he actually was, and their birthday. "I think it's to keep track of who they put the devices in. But -- Allison got to me before they actually did anything."

Noah: Noah wanted to hang his head in shame. How could he have let this happen? This was all his fault. As Stuart continued to explain what he knew, and then gestured to the back of his neck, Noah stood and rounded the chair, needing to take a look for himself. The branding on the back of Stuart's neck was just another blow that Noah struggled to contain. How could he ever make this right for his son? "Allison?" he repeated after Stuart taking in his story in pieces so that his brain could comprehend. The sheriff had known that Cora hadn't been acting quite right since she had mysteriously returned, and while he definitely felt bad for the young Hale, Noah couldn't help but feel relieved that at least, for now, Stuart's mind had not been taken over. The invasion was beyond comprehension, something out of one of those science-fiction stories that Stuart probably enjoyed, but ultimately real. "This is unacceptable," Noah murmured shaking his head. "I won't let them do this." He wanted to storm out to the station at this very moment, to gather his remaining deputies and makes sure the entire world knew of the atrocities that the government were doing in the name of 'protection.' He didn't care what happened to him in the process, as long as his sons and this town were safe. "Something needs to be done, I can't just... I can't stand by and let these people take the minds of innocents like this. I'm the... Sheriff." As much as Noah wanted to rant and rave though, he knew deep down that he was still restricted by the same limitations that had plagued him for years. He was human.

Stuart

He had to resist the urge to rub his hand over the still healing marks against his neck when the other rounded him to look at it -- tugging his beanie down just a bit more once he was sure the other had actually seen it to once more hide it; even if he didn't need to, the marking against his flesh almost making him self conscious and exposed in a way he never had been before. He merely nodded at the mention of Allison -- not wanting to derail the conversation to the huntress and delve into something he wasn't sure he understood yet. "The others came after she found me and got us both out."

He then let out a long breath when Noah spoke again, shaking his head ever so slightly. "We don't want to let them do this, either. It's ... inhumane and cruel. It's crossing way too many lines and it's dangerous on more levels than one. But -- you know as well as I do that you can't just barge in there and demand them to stop. Being the Sheriff against the monster of the Handicap Laws isn't a contest, Noah. And it sucks."

Noah: "That's an understatement," Noah muttered sadly as he returned to sit on the bed. "I almost prefer the you hiding in an abandoned house if it means that you're not getting tortured because of me and your brother." The sheriff shook his head, wondering what they could possibly do to stop such a formidable force. They had faced seemingly unstoppable foes in the past, but face an institution that had the money and resources as the government? It seemed unfathomable. The fact that he also worked for the so-called law enforcement made Noah want to vomit. In some small, obscure way, he was responsible. He had let this happen because he'd had too much faith in his job and the people of this town. "So, what do we do now?" Noah asked, at a loss. "Tell me, son, what do you and the others have planned? Whatever it is, I want to help."

Stuart

"It was not because of you," he told the other with a stern voice -- a voice that one would not use when speaking with someone they considered a father, but instead to an equal. Because, while he discovered he did want some kind of relationship with his birth father -- he could not view him as his father figure. "It was not because of you, or Stiles. You didn't cause this; and no one forced me to turn myself in. I choose it." Stiles was already blaming himself enough; he didn't want Noah to as well.

He let out a breath at the next question, the uncertainty. "We all protect each other," he breathed with a slight shake of his head. "All of us. We hunker down and figure out more about this device, and how we can stop it."

#mission : chatzy #c: n. stilinski #chatzy 008

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hiddenpariiah · 6 years

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file : things _ we _ lost.docx

TAGGING __ // STUART TWOMBLY, THE COVEN LOCATION __// SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF BEACON HILLS TIME _ FRAME ___// APPROX. 4 YEARS AGO INPUT_SUMMARY…?__// .. ____ denied.

It was late that night – the moon hanging low in the sky ; almost swallowed up by clouds as the glow of her illuminated the gray of the approaching storm with an almost eerie luminescent. It made everything on the ground – on the earth, where they were tethered to – dance until its light as the thick winds fought for control ;; waltzing with the weeds and the trees as they bent under its pressure. It was seen from almost miles away – the curling tendrils of smoke inviting itself skyward to live with the stars there that were hiding behind the clouds ; making itself at home against the already smoggy shade of the heavens. And it caused fear to grip his heart ;; fear in a way that he had never known, wrapping and twisting itself around his soul and choking him until his foot floored the gas petal and his car – the engine – sang its protest against the speed. He wasn’t clean about the way he pulled into the street and jerked himself out the car – exhaust still purring and drowned out by the awful ROAR of the flames. Reflected against spectacle lenses – a nasty orange glow smeared its way across his alabaster features as his jacket sleeve came up to stifle a harsh cough ; stolen harshly out of his lungs, raking his entire body until both the heat and the pressure of the smoke won out. His eyes watered and burned and the horrific scene was suddenly swimming. His thoughts were in a million places at once – which was uncommon and unnerving. The tips of his fingers were shaking, the the corners of his lips twitching. Never before had he felt so utterly l o s t and clueless. – where were his parents? Had they made it out of the deathtrap that was formerly his childhood home? He closed his eyes, a harsh wheeze sucked in through chapped lips as he allowed everything to slow ; watching the home through his mind’s eye as time ticked backwards to watch the strain of events that led the property to this devastating conclusion. The moment that he backed up long enough to hear a gut-wrenching DARLENE !! filled his mind’s eye ; pained and grief stricken, echoing through the concaves of his mind until his knees felt weak and his stomach dropped out at his feet – and Stuart was pulling back with a strangled gasp … – He didn’t have much time to process any of it before there was a hand on his elbow ; curling around it. Not as comfort – but almost possessive. Like he was a cast out item to be taken away … – he will never forget that first initial touch from the woman who he could blame all of his TROUBLES on ;; jerking away harshly and quickly as he stumbled back – almost tripping over the curb that lead into his yard as he spun over his shoulder. “ – don’t touch me !! “ he snarled, baring human teeth at the stranger before him – shaking with barely concealed anger and devastation. Stuart had always been taught by his parents control. He was unique. Not unique in his powers by any shape or form – there were so many like him – but unique in the way that he possessed his magic since birth ; it was unheard of. Magic users were designed to spark when they were older – so that the messy emotions of adolescence didn’t create catastrophic results. The push and pull of the energy of magic users was a very delicate balance. So ; from a young age, Stuart learned to bridle his emotions inwardly until a social awkwardness was birthed out of it. But right now, right now his emotions were strung higher than they were had before – the fire echoing in whiskey hues behind his glasses – the wind picking up around them and threatening to swallow the fire in a whirlwind. “Who the hell are you? Why are you here? Why is – why is any of this happening?” The whirlwind, the small twister, that sucked at the flames as if trying to devour them and rid the home of it themselves, was his own making as he took a few steps CLOSER to the stifling heat of the home. As if willing it to take him into its destructive depths and out of the nightmare. “ – Dymek Stilinski - “ the woman crowned. If Stuart had to describe her, he would almost do so as a crow. Never before had he used an animal as a descriptive factor – but she fit it. Beady black eyes he knew would haunt him for years to come narrowed at him as he stepped away. Jet black hair pulled up into a tight bun high on her head as her thin face tipped to one side . “ DO NOT CALL ME THAT ! “ he growled, nostrils flaring as he looked between her and the fire – “ What is a Stilisnki? “ She merely laughed, and Stuart decided right then and there that the high pitched chuckle that fell from her lips was mere eerie and terrifying than any deep cackle on a horror flick. “Never mind that, Stuart – you prefer Stuart, don’t you? You have come a long way from the days that you were a small child – threatened to be eaten alive by your own magical capabilities. Look at this –” She gestured with a hand to the fire that was slowly dwindling down from the sharp winds – and, despite himself, his eyes rose. His breath came in heavy pants, hazelnut hair disheveled by this point and whipping harshly against the almost breakneck winds – so harsh that he could hardly hear himself think. “Look at what you can do. If you were here even sooner – maybe you could’ve stopped it. Maybe you could’ve saved them.” Stuart roared out an angry cry at that and charged her – not even sure what he would do if he met against her solid form. But, the crow-like lady was side stepping him with ease – shaking her head. “All your life, you have had so many questions. About your adoption. About your powers – and now, about this. I can help you with all of them. Your parents have lied to you your entire life. I can make you stronger so that you don’t have to feel this helpless ever again, Stuart.” Stuart was shaking – barely keeping himself upright. Tears from both the heat and the sheer pain in his chest were creating tracks against the soot on his cheeks. “I don’t need you – I don’t care who you are, or what you know,” he breathed, voice hardly audible over the winds. “I don’t need you.”

#file : // self para #file : // 001 para

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sapphireginger · 10 months

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Chapter #13

Summary:

When the two men—Peter and Stuart—get back from the museum, they find Allison and Stiles curled up on the couch in Allison and Stuart’s apartment. Allison has put some light makeup on Stiles consisting of lip gloss, eyes shadow, and mascara. They realize Allison’s feet are on Stiles’s lap because said man is currently painting her toenails. Stuart gapes at the sight because he doesn’t like the makeup thing, but Stiles seems too. Allison is thrilled by this development. Peter has to hold in a growl at the sight of his beautiful mate. Amber eyes meet his and the wolf sees the spark smirk, a smug satisfaction seeping into his scent. Well then.

Stuart gets to know Peter better and they quickly discover they both adore museums and history although Stuart isn’t the best at recollection. Their first stop is the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. It’s intense and both men realize their SOs probably couldn’t handle it. Stiles wouldn’t because of the Nogitsune’s torture—though of course, Peter doesn’t say as much—and Allison because of her mother. They have a really good experience though, and learn a lot. They follow that up with a trip to the Smithsonian. Souvenirs are grabbed from both museums for themselves and their SOs.

“So how long have you known Stiles?” Stuart asks as they munch on some cheesy beef nachos.

Peter licks his lips and swallows. “Well let’s see. I’m twenty five—twenty six in May—and we met when I was eighteen. Yes. So going on about seven or eight years.”

Stuart gapes. “Really? You’re only just dating now though.” His brow furrows in confusion.

“Ah.” The wolf clears his throat. “Well, you see, Sheriff Stilinski—your and Stiles’s father—was really strict. Not to mention, by the time he was eighteen I was twenty three, and away at college. Not far but enough that it would’ve been really hard. Not to mention there were other factors in play that aren’t my place to say.”

“So, uh when did you officially start dating?” Stuart asks and then blushes. “If you want to tell me I mean.”

Peter chuckles. “I don’t mind. Essentially, we’ve had feelings for each other for a very long time. Probably longer than appropriate but eh. Anyway, we actually officially put a name to it the first week he was at the academy.”

“Are you serious?” Stuart squeaks. “That’s only like a few months.”

“Indeed, but I believe knowing each other as long as we have, it really was only a matter of time for us. We know each other extremely well and all that established foundation has made for a lasting relationship.”

The younger twin smiles. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“Thank you, Stuart. Now, tell me about you and Allison.”

✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶

Stiles gets to know Allison easily enough and realizes his nerves were mostly exaggerated. She discovers his book in the bookstore she frequents as an avid reader and an editor. She immediately buys it and gobbles it up with eagerness. When she tells him as much, he is humbled but also blushing, not used to compliments that aren't from Peter. Even then he’s never really fully comfortable accepting them.

It’s an easy answer of yes when she asks him to sign the book and they get to talking about genres.

“I’m pretty easy to please,” Allison explains before taking a sip of her coffee. They’ve taken a table at the coffee shop in the bookstore itself. “I’ll read almost anything.”

Stiles quirks a brow. “Almost anything?” he teases.

Allison snorts. “Oh, all right. I won’t read erotica but if Stu reads it to me, I’m game. I won’t read horror.” She shudders and clears her throat. “I’ve had enough of my own real life horror.”

“Me too,” Stiles says softly, and they exchange commiserating smiles full of understanding.

“What about you? What genres do you like?” she asks.

Stiles hums. “Mm. Crime. Mystery. Thrillers especially psychological thrillers and some fantasy and dystopian as well.”

Allison grins. “What’s your favorite psychological thriller?”

“That’s easy. I like couldn’t put Red Sparrow down. Have you read it?”

“Oh my god. Hell, yes, I’ve read it. I’ve seen the movie too.”

“Movie?!” Stiles exclaims. “There’s a movie.”

The brunette gapes at him. “You—I—Wha—Yes! Oh my god!!! We’re going to watch it.”

“We are?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

Allison grabs their things and hauls him up. “Now.”

Suffice it to say, they both are engrossed in the movie within minutes, leaning forward in their seats. The popcorn is barely touched, their drinks are now room temperature and while each of them holds the blanket they’re sharing with one hand they grip each other’s free hand so tight their knuckles turn white.

By the time the movie ends they are speechless. Then Stiles turns to look at Allison. “You could so be a sparrow.”

“I was going to say that about you if they allowed men to do so,” she says, glancing at him.

Stiles smiles and squeezes her hand before letting go, the two of them flexing their stiff fingers. “Well now what?” he asks.

Allison grins–Stuart is so right about the princess dimples–and gestures to the bookcase. “We can read or put on another movie. What would you prefer?”

“Hmm.” Stiles’s gaze falls on the movies and he gasps, grabbing one. “Oh, hell yeah. This one!” he exclaims and shows it to her.

Her face lights up and she nods excitedly. “One of my favorites.”

They settle in for another movie. This time they watch Lucy.

✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶

Stuart gapes at the sight because he doesn’t like the makeup thing, but Stiles seems too. Allison is thrilled by this development.

Peter has to hold in a growl at the sight of his beautiful mate. Amber eyes meet his and the wolf sees the spark smirk, a smug satisfaction seeping into his scent. Well then.

They all pile on the couch in a tangle of limbs. Peter sits on the right side with Stiles’s head in his lap. Stuart curls around Allison whose legs are tangled with Stiles’s legs. Popcorn is popped and steaming hot, ready to gorge on. They have cold drinks and of course Reese’s. Stuart and Allison pull on pajamas—Stuart in a black t-shirt and blue sweats, Allison in a white tank top and pink shorts—while Peter and Stiles remain in what they put on that morning.

They put on the movie Nerve and by the end of said movie, both twins are asleep. Peter helps Allison get Stuart to bed before picking Stiles up and cradling him close. Without really thinking about it, Peter scent marks both Stuart and Allison before leaving.

#steter #stallison #stuart x allison #allison x stuart #peter x stiles #stiles x peter #alpha peter hale #spark stiles stilinski #twins stiles stilinski and stuart twombly #mates peter hale/stiles stilinski #getting to know you #bonding #fluffy #stiles wears makeup

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sapphireginger · 10 months

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Chapter #14

Summary:

When they part, both out of breath, they glance over to Stiles and Peter who are now lovestruck, swaying slowly, regardless of the club beat. “Damn,” Allison says. Stuart looks at her and nods. “Right?!” He’ll admit his brother looks good but not just physically. He’s more settled and centered now. This is by far the best birthday the twins have ever had. They make sure to tell each other and their SOs as much at the end of the night.

On April 8th when the twins turn 22, Stuart learns that the makeup thing is multifaceted for his brother.

“Woah!” he says. “You look fantastic, duży brat.”

Stiles blushes adjusting his outfit—high top converse, black skinny jeans, white mesh crop top and a touch of makeup done by Allison—and smiles. “Thanks. It’s uh different but it’s me.”

Stuart grins. “Sure is. Are you ready?”

“Born ready. Oh!” He grabs his brother’s hand and squeezes. “Wszystkiego najlepszego, braciszku.”

If anyone asks, there are absolutely no tears in Stuart’s eyes. “Wszystkiego najlepszego, starszy bracie.”

Allison giggles and kisses Stiles’s cheek, wishing him a happy birthday. She’s wearing a short, strapless lavender dress with black stiletto heels.

Peter—who’s wearing a light blue v neck, black jeans and with some convincing by Stiles a pair of blue converse—grips Stuart’s shoulder firmly and does the same—without the kiss—before lacing his fingers with Stiles’s. “Ready?”

Stiles pecks Peter’s lips and nods. “Born ready.”

The wolf doesn’t even care that he has lip gloss on his lips now. The smile Stiles is sporting matters more than the slight strawberry stickiness.

All four of them hit a club for the twin’s birthday and have a blast. They get a couple drinks before both twins are dragged out onto the dance floor by their SOs just as ‘ Yeah ’ by Usher starts playing.

Stuart and Stiles grin at each other and get their groove on. It’s a mess of grinding that should be illegal with how hot and how sexy it is. People clear a space for the group of four and cheer them on.

♫♫♫

Peace up, A-Town down Yeah! Okay Usher (Usher, Usher, Usher, Usher) Lil Jon Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Let's go Up in the club with my homies, trying to get a lil' V-I Keep it down on the low key (low key) You should know how it feels (hey) I seen shorty, she was checking up on me From the game she was spitting in my ear You would think that she know me (know me) I decided to chill (okay) Conversation got heavy (hey) She had me feeling like she's ready to blow (watch out) Oh (watch out) She's saying, come get me (come get me) So I got up and followed her to the floor She said, "Baby let's go" When I told her, I said (Yeah) Yeah Shorty got down low, said, "Come and get me" (Yeah) Yeah I got so caught up, I forgot she told me (Yeah) Yeah Her and my girl, used to be the best of homies (Yeah) Yeah Next thing I knew, she was all up on me screaming Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah So she's all up in my head now, got me thinking That it might be a good idea to take her with me 'Cause she's ready to leave (ready to leave now) (let's go) And I got to keep it real now 'Cause on a one to ten, she's a certified 20 But that just ain't me, hey 'Cause I don't know, if I take that chance Just where's it gonna lead But what I do know is the way she dance Make shorty alright with me The way she get low I'm like, yeah, just work that out for me She asks for one more dance, and I'm like, yeah How the hell am I supposed to leave? And I say (Yeah) Yeah Shorty got down low, said, "Come and get me" (Yeah) Yeah I got so caught up, I forgot she told me (Yeah) Yeah Her and my girl, used to be the best of homies (Yeah) Yeah Next thing I knew, she was all up on me screaming Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Hey, hey, Luda) Watch out, my outfit's ridiculous In the club looking so conspicuous And roar, these women all on the prowl If you hold the head steady, I'ma milk the cow (yeah) And forget about game, I'ma spit the truth (what?) I won't stop 'til I get 'em in their birthday suit (yeah!) So gimme the rhythm and it'll be off with their clothes Then bend over to the front and touch your toes I left the Jag' and I took the Rolls If they ain't cutting, then I put em on foot patrol (let's go) How you like me now? When my pinky's valued over three hundred thousand Let's drink, you the one to please (yeah) Ludacris fill cups like double D's (yeah) Me and Ursh' once more, and we leaves 'em dead We want a lady in the street but a freak in the bed, that say (Yeah) Yeah Shorty got down low, said, "Come and get me" (Yeah) Yeah I got so caught up, I forgot she told me (Yeah) Yeah Her and my girl, used to be the best of homies (Yeah) Yeah Next thing I knew, she was all up on me screaming Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

♫♫♫

Peter’s grip on Stiles’s hip is fierce as he bites and sucks at the pale man’s throat. Allison nearly has her hand stroking Stuart’s bare cock, still encased in his pants. Stiles groans, tilting his head back for a kiss when Peter’s barely claw tipped fingers scrape up his stomach under his shirt. He can feel the way his spark reacts to the wolf—his wolf—making him turn around. With little thought he crashes their mouths together, grinding together, drunk on the feeling of their erections.

♫♫♫

Take that and rewind it back Lil Jon got the beat that make your booty go Take that, rewind it back Ursher got the voice make your booty go Take that, rewind it back Ludacris got the flow to make your booty go Take that, rewind it back Lil Jon got the beat that make your booty go

♫♫♫

Stuart throws his head back, about to cum in his pants because of his girlfriend’s ministrations. She knows exactly how to touch him to make him come undone. At the last moment, when he’s right there, she squeezes the base of his cock, and he chokes back a whine. Sensing he won’t get to cum yet, he spins around to pull her close, his hands gripping her hips before she guides them to her ass.

When they part, both out of breath, they glance over to Stiles and Peter who are now lovestruck, swaying slowly, regardless of the club beat.

“Damn,” Allison says.

Stuart looks at her and nods. “Right?!” He’ll admit his brother looks good but not just physically. He’s more settled and centered now.

This is by far the best birthday the twins have ever had. They make sure to tell each other and their SOs as much at the end of the night.

#teen wolf #steter #stallison #stiles x peter #peter x stiles #allison x stuart #stuart x allison #alpha peter hale #spark stiles stilinski #allison argent #stuart twombly #twins stiles stilinski and stuart twombly #peter hale #stiles stilinski #birthday

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perlocutionary · 6 years

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Notorious, pt. 10 - Stuart Twombly

Description: You may have finally met your equal.

Relationship: Fuckboy!Stuart Twombly x Reader

Word count: 2770 (a little bit longer because you had to wait a little bit longer!)

Title: I think we need to talk.

A/N: Ok so the drama starts HERE. I have taken my time because I don’t want to rush this part, as it is quite important for the rest of this story to come! I have to warn you, there might be some sexual implications and they might not be related to a certain DOB character with glasses.. Sorry not sorry. Let me know what you think!

Part 1 - ... - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

When I’m finally out of the shower, everyone is already done and pre-drinking in anticipation of Ben’s frat party. I'm humming an obnoxious tune to myself as I run a towel along my dripping wet hair, strolling into my bed room.

Sarina and Daryl are occupying my unmade bed, a bottle of clear liquid passes between them in a rhythmic manner. A sound of recognition slips me when I notice them loitering on my bed.

Instead of joining in on the festivities, I ignore them completely as I dive into my closet in search for the perfect outfit for the evening. It is silent for quite some time; the only sound heard my humming still. I don’t mind, it leaves me to get dressed and apply most of my make up before Sarna speaks up.

"I’m not sure if you’re just overly thrilled about something, or so anxious you’re going to burst out of your body.”

"Mhm?" I turn on my heel, holding up a dress and a skirt for my friends to decide and with a simple nod of their heads it's settled. I thread over to the females on my bed, snatching the bottle away from Daryl’s grasp and taking a large, big gulp. I absolutely hate straight Vodka.

When the initial burn of the alcohol has passed through my throat, I scrape it and answer my best friend. “What makes you say that?”

A scoff leaves both girls’ lips almost instantaneously, the empty bottle dropped onto the floor with a hollow thud.

“The fact that I see you grinning to yourself like a maniac. But then – realization hits you in the face and I’m afraid you might chew your own fingers off with whatever’s going through that mind of yours.” Sarina sighs, dropping onto my bed and tucking herself in

I stop in my tracks, my liquid eyeliner dangling in front of my face as I stare at my friends through my vanity mirror. “Is it even possible to chew your own fingers off?”

A smirk crawls its way onto my lips when Daryl speaks up almost immediately – she always had the knowledge about these weird facts, but I loved hearing about them.

“There are many cases known of people biting off certain body parts but … Y/N, damn it!” Her voice raises near the end, but she doesn’t finish her sentence as Sarina interrupts her.

"Stop changing the subject!" Sarina demands, her finger pointed threating in my direction, "What’s gotten you on cloud nine? What did you do with Stuart today?"

I hum, shrugging the skirt over my hips pulling it into proper place before answering. "Nothing, just some lunch and then we went for the new Jurassic film."I’m just about done, ready to head down, but the silence I’m met with is eerie. Both are staring at me with blank faces, but I’m there to witness those stares to grow into bright-ass smirk within mere moments. I huff loudly, crossing my arms over my chest – but still, they don’t speak.

“What?”

“You went on a date.” Daryl grins, immediately followed by noisy clapping of her hands in excitement. I feel my cheeks heat up – because it had been coursing through my mind as well and I wasn’t sure if these nervous jitters were because of excitement at certain prospects or complete fear of what were to happen now.

I’m stuttering my answer. "I – uh, no. I did not."

"Yes, you most definitely did."

Sarina is quick to pipe in. "I told you that you were into him. I was right all along, wasn't I?"

If I could wipe that smug grin off her face without this blowing way out of proportion, I would’ve done it weeks ago. I don’t want to think about these things, I just want to have fun.

Another stuttering sentence from me. "I - uh - no."

“Okay then,” Sarina starts, raising to her feet as she sees me threading over to my bedroom door, “tell me this…” I don’t wait for them, instead, I’m already heading downstairs when her voice picks up and I stop dead in my tracks.

"How long has it been since you have been with anyone beside Stuart?"

I whip around at the bottom of the stairs, watching Sarina and Daryl slowly step down and approach before they pass me easily.

"I -"

Sarina throws another jab over her shoulder as she continues her way to where the other girls were occupying the sofa. "Do you even remember?"

Daryl is already far ahead of us and disappears along the corner when I dig my finger nails into my best friend’s arm and yank her back, rather forcefully.

My voice is a harsh, loud whisper. I had come to the realization myself that I maybe liked Stuart in different ways than I were supposed to, but I didn’t want anyone outside of my own damn mind to be so on point about it.

"Can you fucking not? I'm not in love with him, he is my friend, whom I receive some very joyous benefits from. That's all."

I feel my stomach twist around at my lies. Even if it were like this, I did not want it. I didn’t want to like Stuart, or even think about what it would be like to be his girlfriend – I had a very productive shower – I just want him to touch all my sweet spots and make me feel relaxed. Without any hassle.

Sarina snatches her arm from my vice grip as her smug grin makes a reappearance for the night. "Mhm. Very convincing."

I guess I’ll have to show her, Daryl and myself that I don’t think of Stuart in any way that everyone seems to be implying. I know that if I find myself someone else to sleep with, my infatuation with Stuart will just disappear – who wouldn’t doubt themselves if he gives the best orgasms one has ever experienced?

"Please, stop. Everyone is waiting for us, and I’m sick of having this conversation over and over again.”

I guess there’s only one thing I have to do tonight.

I had to admit that I had chugged back a bit too many shots before we even left for the party, and it didn’t lessen when we finally arrived.

Shot after shot flows and by the time the clock strikes midnight, I am already having trouble standing up straight without swaying back and forth. I hadn’t seen Stuart yet – but I hope it won’t take him too long to find me.

And that’s when I saw him. I wondered how long he had been here already, but, to be honest, it wasn’t like I was paying attention to my surroundings either. Stuart looks amazing tonight, and I salivate the longer I stare at him.

He’s talking to a girl, and I can’t help but let my dismissive stare rake over her frame. Her hand runs along Stuart’s exposed arm, and his hand is comfortably resting on her waist. The cup in my hand is squeezed, the plastic squeaking underneath my grasp before I chug it down ad fundum.

She subtly inches closer, and closer, and closer. Her breasts are pressed against Stuart’s side as she whispers things into his ear, things that make him smile. Just watching them caused me to refill my drink three times in the span of less than ten minutes – and I was starting to feel the consequences of it.

But then, our eyes meet.

A bright grin makes its way onto Stuart’s lips and I see his eyelid drops down into a wink. It causes my stomach to flutter with butterflies and my cheeks to heat up instantaneously. As I ready myself to head over – to have a mere conversation with my best friend, of course – the unknown girl presses her lipstick-clad lips against his jaw.

My smile falters and I take another sip of my drink – but distractions come in the form a lanky, handsome blonde with a new drink.

“Hi.”

I blink a few times as I cock my head to the side, grinning at the handsome young man that is grinning at me deviously. “Oh, hi there.”

The male holds out a red solo cup for me to grasp, his head motioning to the drink as well.

“I noticed that you could use another drink.”

“Thank you.” I shyly smile in return, taking the cup and sniffing its contents. Rum and coke. My favorite.

“I’m Newt.” Apparently, Newt, speaks, dipping his tongue past his lips to wet them briefly before returning to his smirk. My body shivers at his actions, buzzing with alcohol and want – I did have something to prove.

That’s when I register his name, and a small chuckle surpasses me. Newt seems to perk up at the sound, taking a sip of his own drink but remaining his gaze firmly trained on me.

“Newt? As in Isaac Newton?”

It draws a chuckle from the tall male, music sounding in my ears. I have already chugged his drink down, glancing briefly at Stuart who now has his eyes trained on me in a harshly set glare. In my buzzed-out state, it seemed like a great idea to lean closer toward Newt, grinning up at him when he answers after his chuckle as died down.

“Yeah, my mom was a science geek.”

I shrug my shoulders, letting my hand rest on his upper arm, leaning further into him.

“Nothing wrong with that, it’s a special name.”

The smile I’m granted with makes me think why this handsome man was not taken yet. He has this youthful thing to him, which seems to draw me in rapidly.

“Thank you, love. But you haven’t mentioned your name yet.”

He hands me another drink and I know I should pass up on the offer, but instead, I grasp it firmly and bring it to my lips without a second thought. Half of it disappears down my throat before I reply to him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Y/N.”

Newt’s hand raises to brush some stray hairs from my face, his next words a whisper against the shell of my ear. It causes a rush of adrenaline and shiver to run throughout my entire body.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

In my mind, I am contemplating if I should just press my lips against his when we’re interrupted. I feel his fingers curl around my biceps and I feel the spark, which ignites every time he touches me, before I feel his hot breath fan against my ear.

“Y/N, I think it’s best if you stop drinking.”

I briefly let go of Newt to turn around, grinning dumbfounded at a frowning Stuart. I push his hand off me, his firm grasp leaving slight dentures in their wake, but my smile never falters. “Hi Stu! I – I’m not drunk yet, so don’t worry.” I blatantly lie through my teeth. I feel myself swaying on my feet, and it isn’t to the heavy bass surrounding us.

“Y/N��” His tone is anything but dismissive, his hand raises up to touch me again. I finish off my drink, dropping the empty cup to the floor. “… Please.”

“Stuart, I appreciate this, really, but I’m fine. I’ll come find you later.” I smile, nodding my head briefly – which I immediately regretted when I felt the room spinning – and turn back toward my new friend Newt.

I push back any thoughts regarding Stuart as I grin up at Newt again. I know I should’ve gone with Stuart. I know that he is the one I want to spend my time with, but it wasn’t the sensible choice at this moment. Newt was friendly, he was handsome, and I knew I had a shot with him. And I wasn’t going to surpass that chance.

I moan against his lips when I feel his tongue swipe along my lips, dipping into my mouth to explore freely. His hands are roaming along my back, momentarily stopping to squeeze my ass tentatively, my whole body pressed firmly against his taut chest.

My hands have disappeared into his luscious blonde locks, enjoying this split moment before I’d wake up with an amazing hangover in the morning.

“Maybe we…” Next sighs against my lips, trailing kisses from them to my jaw, up to my neck, “… should take this to a more private place.”

I sigh and tilt my head back when I feel his lips against my sternum. “Yes, please.”

Newt holds out his hand for me to grasp and I let my fingers slip in his, leading me up the stairs and away from the booming party.

My heart is hammering in my chest as I follow Newt up, disappearing into one of the bedrooms as it clicks and shuts behind me. I’m pressed against the door, Newt’s lips finding mine again as his thighs run between my legs and his hands roam all over my body.

We break away for air, and Newt winks before he trails over to his bed, shrugging his shirt off. I hiccup, giggling immediately after, which makes my heart hammer in my head. The headache was already creeping up on me. I notice a few pictures framed on his desk and hum in acknowledgement. “Your room?”

It’s Newt’s turn to hum in response. “Yeah. I’m part of this frat.”

I shrug my shirt off my shoulders, slowly threading closer as I let my gaze wander over his now exposed torso. He wasn’t as buff as Stuart, but I noticed the outline of training on Newt’s body. “Ah – I never knew.”

Newt hums as his hand cups my jaw, our lips roughly pressed together while he guides me toward his bed. Our kiss breaks and he sits down on the bed, motioning me to follow.

“It doesn’t matter love. Com’ere.”

His body envelopes mine like a blanket as our kiss grows more heated. I feel his fingers trail along my inner thigh, inching up closer to where I needed him.

Newt never gets the chance though.

I squeal loudly when Newt’s presence above me disappears and a loud thump follows immediately after. My eyes are squeezed shut tightly, covering my bra-clad chest from whomever decided to come inside and interrupt.

It’s when I feel fingers curl around my wrist and I smell his cologne that my eyes snap open. “Stuart?”

“I told you to fuckin’ stop drinking, Y/N.” He easily lifts me to my feet, and I’m left standing there, swaying, as he retrieves my shirt from the floor. He aids me in pulling it over my body, and then quickly winds his arm around my waist as he guides me outside Newt’s bedroom.

“Stuart – what are you doing?” I mumble, his cologne infatuating me, and I realize that Newt might have never made me feel ten percent of what Stuart does to me. Instead of verbally answering, Stuart merely growls as he pushes through the masses of bodies, perching me on top of his hood when he cannot find his keys.

When he returns to me, I curl my arms around his neck and haul him against me, pressing my lips forcefully against his. He seems to lose himself in the kiss for a moment before he pulls away, his eyes fluttering open again.

“Y/N, you’re shitfaced.”

I’m trailing wet, sloppy kisses along his jaw as my hands disappear into his hair.

“That’s never stopped you before…”

“Y/N, not right now. And not like this. Not anymore.” Stuart sighs as he picks me up swiftly, dropping me into the passenger seat of his ride. He rounds the vehicle and drops into his designated spot, roaring the car to life and setting of to what I presume is my sorority.

After a few moments of contemplation, I lift my hand and drop it onto Stuart’s that’s resting on the console between us. My fingers lace with his, a sigh slipping from my part lips as I feel my eyes droop closed already. “Thank you, Stuart.”

I didn’t know what I was thanking him for, but I knew that I should be thanking him. And I realized in my drunken stupor that it is now or never to tell him.

“Stuart,” I mumble, my head lolling to the side as I squeeze his fingers affectionately, “… maybe we should talk.”

I hear his reply through a haze, but my eyelids feel to heavy for me to try and stay awake. I’m falling into a fast, deep slumber as my head thumps and my senses scream Stuart Twombly.

Forever tag: @ssweet-empowerment @fuckwhateverfuck @youshiverwhenyouhearmyname @behind-my-hazeleyes27 @itsbilescallmebiles @7e6205 @daddyxraeken @lovelynerdytraveler @redstringlovers @suggsmate @dylxnob

Stuart tag: @cece-lives-here @dancingalone21 @europha @letmebeyoursforever @voidwriter @anneistrash @thesecretlifeofmeinmyhead @flirtstiles

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perlocutionary · 6 years

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Notorious, pt. 1 - Stuart Twombly

Description: You may have finally met your equal.

Warnings: Look, I’m shit at warnings. This is about a fuckboy!Stuart and an equally fucked up Y/N. Of course there will be sex - and a lot of it, and in all different kinds of ways. But I swear you, nothing else (e.g. mistreatment, rape) will happen, or I will explicitedly mention it. Btw, I don’t write that - ever.

Relationship: Fuckboy!Stuart Twombly x Reader

Word count: 2057

Title: You know him. Or at least his reputation.

Part 2

"Look at that hot piece of equipment," I mumble underneath my breath, taking my glance off the barista's ass long enough to throw a knowing smirk in my best friend's direction. Her eyebrows are up, smirk edging on her own lips as she awaits the finish of my sentence. "And I'm not talking about the espresso machine." A snort leaves her, the tiniest shakes of her head indicating she believed I was a complete and utter moron – And sometimes, I knew I was.

"He's quite alright. And he makes a mean cup of coffee." Sarina hums in agreement, nodding her head along her statement as she lets her gaze flutter over the people occupying the line of the coffee shop just off campus. The young male mixing up our drinks might be a sight for sore eyes, but he wasn’t very quick. Every day we had come here, and every day, we had to wait forever to get out drinks. At first, I was sympathetic toward the young man – a new job is always nerve wrecking. But this was getting out of hand. My fingers are impatiently rapping along the counter, gaze once more glued to the curved ass of handsome young barista – I think he was new.

"Oh, look at that fine ass!" Sarina's elbow playfully jabs me in between my ribs to gather my attention, a loud huff passing me at an instant. I refocus my attention on the male she is speaking of, slowly sipping his coffee as his eyes stay glued to the laptop screen in front of him. It was no secret our campus held many amazingly attractive men, and it seemed they all gathered here, at the lone coffee shop near the edge.

"He can put milk in my coffee any time."

Immediately, my features contort into one of pure disgust, the tip of my tongue poking past my lips as I squeeze my eyes closed. "Sar, ew. Gross." Her head snaps to mine and her grin falters, a pointed look thrown my way as she slaps my upper arm. This banter between us was something that never seemed to waver.

"As if you wouldn't." A shrug of my shoulders follows her question, my tongue slowly trailing over my bottom lip as I give the male another once over. The male looked familiar, but not in a sense that I had properly met him before. Probably wouldn’t like to either. I shrug my shoulder nonchalantly, meeting Sarina’s smug grin. "Yeah, I'd probably tap that."

I sigh aggravated as my gaze flicks to the barista again, almost at the point in asking him what's taking so damn long. Instead, I'm once again distracted by my best friend's voice, her attention on someone else in the small, cramped coffee shop. "Didn't you meet him in our first year?"

The male's back is toward us, my eyes trailing from his broad shoulders down to his ass as I contemplate. "I think I did..." As I trail off, the unknown male turns around and a sound of acknowledgement slips me. "Ah. Yeah. I did. He was okay." Our eyes meet and I’m quick to grant him a tight-lipped smile, immediately averting my gaze to avoid him coming up for a small chat.

I am met with an over exaggerated eye roll, my lips pressed together tightly as I once again snap my head toward the counter. I knew it was busy at the beginning of a new year, but seriously? I huff annoyed as he slides Sarina's drink our way, my hand cupping the paper cup to present it to my otherwise-occupied friend. Her fingers curl around the container without a second thought as she speaks again. My hip rests against the counter again, arms crossed over my chest. I’m blatantly eyeing everyone here, but no one seems to spark my interest. Until Sarina speaks. "Now that is a face I'd like to sit on."

I hum, trying my best to find Sarina's gaze and see who the hell she was looking at. Instead of trying and failing, I lean further back against the counter and wait for Sarina to elaborate. "Him." She points directly at Stuart Twombly, a name and face she sure should know after three years here. Stuart Twombly was an anomaly. His eyes were always glued to his phone – and he wasn’t very social either. But somehow, he was one of the most popular guys around here. And that was before the whole ordeal with Google took place over the summer. "Why don't I see that around campus?"

Perhaps he was on the receiving end of one rumor spreading like wildfire. I once heard a story about this non-attractive, awkwardly-social guy who got laid more than all his friends together at the end of his school career because one of his friends told a girl he had a big dick. Maybe that’s why Stuart Twombly had such a success with the ladies. Although I had to admit, he was gorgeous.

"Dude, seriously? He's in my class - English I believe." My eyes rake over Twombly's form, wandering from his brown hair covered by a beanie along his prominent jawline, down his upper body until it's hidden by the round table he occupies. Maybe gorgeous had been an understatement. I wasn’t one for glasses, but it made him seem more attractive – I can’t explain it.

"Who is he?" Sarina takes a sip of her drink without taking her eyes off the handsome young male. Needless to say, I could appreciate beauty when I encountered it. And although I had no idea what it was, Stuart had it.

"You know him. Or at least his reputation," I start off, waiting for the gears in Sarina's head to click into the right order, but continuing as soon as she throws me a confused glance. "Stuart Twombly. First of all, he's the guy that won that job at Google over the summer.” I mumble, rethinking about the buzz that seemed to float around campus when the end of the summer rolled around. He had been the underdog, but still gotten the one thing he dreamed about since he was a little kid. I was glad he had let his eyes wander up from his phone once in a while nowadays.

“It catapulted him into like a university-super stardom; but I do have to give it to him – he’s probably one of the best in his business, especially for such a young age.” I continue on, locking gazes with my best friend; my lips are pursed as I watch Sarina’s features conflict. “Have you spoken to him before then?”

An immediate shake of my head follows. “No, not that I’m aware of. But – “ I shrug my shoulders, not knowing how to answer her question. Instead, I continue on.

“Secondly, he is the guy from Melissa. And that guy from Britt. Oh, remember that rumor about a threesome in which Julie and Steph were involved? Also, him." I start listing off all the conquests of Stuart Twombly that I was familiar with, although I'm certain there were many more stories added to his repertoire over the short years he’s roamed this campus.

"I can see the appeal though. Seemingly, she's next." I point to the lanky girl openly flirting with the brunette, his lips set into a cocky smirk as he strokes her arm. A chuckle slips from Sarina's lips, her head snapping to the barista as he slides my drink my way. "Finally,” I mumble underneath my breath, “… thanks." I curtly smile, turning on my heel to add sugar and milk.

"I'll bet you twenty they leave here together." I mumble, not taking my gaze off my paper cup, struggling with the lid. "Mhm?" Apparently, Sarina's attention was once more, directed elsewhere, and I lift my head long enough to nod in Twombly's direction. "Them."

"Ah, nah Y/N. You're always right about this shit. I'll pass." Sarina laughs, and I chuckle along, adding the tiniest bit of milk before grasping to the sugar dispenser. We stay quiet as I gently tap my pointer finger on the glass, watching the sugar flutter from its container and into my cup.

"So, are you going to go for him?" Sarina questions, her attention back on the barista who is still busying himself by making drinks, the smallest shakes of my head following straight after. If he handled his women the way he handle my coffee just now … "Nope. I don't fuck where I eat. Learned that the hard way." I stick my tongue out at my best friend, trying to contain the boisterous laughter that wants to slip me, refraining from drawing attention to myself.

"I don't want to know..." Sarina shakes her head jokingly, taking a few steps towards the exit as I recap my paper cup. Our gazes land on the large hand of Stuart Twombly resting on the lanky girl's back, guiding her outside the small cafe. My head motions to the action taking place. "Ha! Told you so, didn't I?" I hum in satisfaction, pointing at the disappearing bodies before we make our own exit.

The cold air nips at my skin, my head snuggling further into my thick scarf thrown haphazardly around my neck. “You’re always right about this. Do you have a sixth sense about sex?” I snort loudly, almost spitting out my coffee at my best friend’s words.

“That sounds like such a useful skill to have.” I sarcastically remark, rolling my eyes as I bring my cup to my lips. The weather was slowly becoming colder, chilling our skin as a clear indication that summer had passed, and another year was awaiting us just around the corner.

We walk in peace, occasionally sipping from our hot beverages as we stroll back toward campus. I know Sarina is mauling over something, but I'm not going to pry her for her thoughts. Eventually, she'll share them anyway.

Silence overcomes us, draped over our conversation like a blanket – but it never got awkward. Sarina scrapes her throat, gathering my attention briskly.

"Remember my friend Daryl?" She starts off, a hum leaving my lips to acknowledge her words and answering the question all together in one go. "I think she fucked him. From what I recall, she couldn't remember much though." Her head turns toward me as we turn the corner, our house - dorm, whatever you want to call it - slowly creeping closer.

"That bad, or that drunk?" I laugh, throwing my empty cup in the trash bin we encounter along the way, changing up the pace as I start walking backwards, eyes glued on a grinning Sarina.

"That drunk." Another chuckle slips my lips. I wouldn’t have guessed it any other way.

"Of course."

This time, the silence doesn’t dwindle down, Sarina quick to start up conversation again as I fall into step beside her once again.

"Are you excited for this year?" Sarina asks again as we walk up the driveway of our humble home - which we share with a couple others - stopping right in front of the front door. "As excited as you can be to resume school, Sar. Yeah. I guess I am." I'm nonchalant in my words, but I do am pretty ecstatic to start. Our third and final year rolled around, we've got a good set of friends - and roommates - and tomorrow night, we'd get the chance to meet the new people that would take the leaving friends' places. For what it was worth, this year could only be the prime of our lives.

"I'm nervous. After this, everything's changing." She pushes the door open, revealing the busy, working bees of our home. Getting decorations in order, preparing snacks, some yelling at others about god knows what. "Maybe worry about that shit later, Sar. We still got to make it through a whole year before we're there." I laugh, shaking my head as I climb the stairs, toward the confines of my bedroom and away from the chaos.

“You just wait. Sometime in the next months, realization will strike you. And you’ll be shit scared about all that’s changing around you.” Sarina threatens me, and I giggle as I disappear upstairs, leaving her behind at the end of the stairs.

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mf-despair-queen · 7 years

Text

Snow Days - Stuart Twombly [Smut]

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Character(s): Stuart Twombly/Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Oral (both receiving)

Word Count: 4216

Notes: This is part 2 to Heat Haze Days. Please go read it if you haven’t already. This turned out to be pure filth. And I am not sorry for it. Ya’ll can honestly thank @sincerelystiles for this. She encouraged me to write part 2 and, between her and @ninja-stiles, encouraged me to go full ham on the sin. They are dolls though and I love them for the support. Please let me know how you guys like it!

Part 1 - Heat Haze Days

You groaned, digging you head deeper into the pillow, faint sunlight piercing through the window into the room. Your phone beeped a few times, alerting you to the new emails you had received from work. Reaching over, you grabbed it quickly and snuggled back under the blanket.

-SNOW DAY AT GOOGLE-

You didn’t bother to read the rest of the email, before dropping your phone onto the bed beside you. The message was clear as day, and you silently cheered. You had gotten a day off because it happened to be snowing. It was a rare occasion here in San Francisco, but you weren’t going to complain. A day off is a day off.

You reached out from under the covers, grabbed one of Stuart’s shirts that was laying on the ground beside the bed, and slipped it over your head quickly.

Yes, you read that right. Stuart’s. Since that unbearable summer months ago, you and Stuart have become inseparable. He was the best boyfriend you had ever had, and you couldn’t be happier. You guys had many things in common, and you could actually get him off his phone long enough to have a conversation, watch a show or have a meal together. And, to top it all off, the sex was amazing.

You guys moved in with one another a few months after you started dating. It was a small, cozy apartment not too far from the Google building. Sometimes, it wasn’t the best, but it did the job. And it was affordable, even if both you and Stuart worked at Google.

You slipped from the bed, a shiver running down your spine as the cold air hit your silky legs. You slipped on a pair of panties and some shorts before rubbing your arms. You felt the goosebumps on your arms, running over to the closet to find a jacket.

You were confused as you walked out of the bedroom, heading to the kitchen. You could have sworn you guys had turned on the heater last night before you went to bed. Sure, it was a bit warm for part of the evening as Stuart did many…unspeakable things to you. But, it shouldn’t have been this cold in the apartment to begin with.

Stuart was sitting at the dining room table as you walked in, sipping a cup of coffee. You watched his eyes dart over the screen of the laptop in front of him continuously, probably glancing through his emails. He recently had received a promotion, keeping him busier than ever. And, even if work took up a good portion of his time, he still managed to spend the perfect amount of time with you, and only you.

You took a second to admire his morning appearance. He wore a simple long sleeve shirt that clung to his arms in just the right way and a pair of sweatpants that you could tell hung low on his hips, even when he was sitting down the way he is. He hair was still messy from last night, and you could make out a couple purple marks lining his neck from under his shirt.

You smiled at the sight of him, wrapping your arms around yourself and leaning on the doorframe. “Morning, babe.” He glanced at you and quirked a small smile in your direction. “Do you know why it is so cold in here? I swear we turned on the heater last night before we went to bed.”

He nodded, taking a small sip from his mug. “The heater broke. I woke up to find it freezing. I tried everything to get it to come back on, but nothing. I called the office, but they won’t be able to send anyone to fix it until tomorrow because of the snow.”

You groaned and rubbed your arms, trying to apply heat. The cold air seemed to penetrate your skin, no matter how hard you tried. “That’s just perfect. We get a snow day for once and I am going to freeze my ass off anyway.”

He chuckled, motioning you to move closer to him. He spun in his seat as you walked closer to him and tugged you by the bottom of the shirt to stand between his legs. He wrapped his arms around your waist and stared up at you, making it seem like his hazel eyes were piercing your soul. Leaning down, you kissed him softly on the lips.

“I wouldn’t want you to freeze your ass off, now would I?” He chuckled against your lips, his hand slipping down to grab your ass through your shorts. You groaned slightly, resting your hands on his shoulders to keep from collapsing at the small gesture.

“No, you wouldn’t. You always did like my ass quite a bit. Are you actually an ass man?” You licked his lips a little, pulling away before he could retaliate.

“I don’t know. Your tits are just as nice as your ass is.” He smacked your ass, and nuzzled is face into your stomach, just below your breasts. You smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, I’m freezing just standing here. Maybe I will just go curl back up in bed with all the blankets.”

He shook his head and pulled you closer to him, making it harder to stand upright in front of him. “Why does it seem that you can never win when it comes to the weather here? And you know, if you wore something more than some shorts and one of my shirts under that jacket, you wouldn’t be so cold.”

You glared at him and smacked the top of his head. Groaning he rubbed the spot you hit as you turned away from him. “You’re a dick. And it’s not my fault that the A/C units always seem to break around me.”

“Yeah yeah. We already established that I’m a dick. You told me many times before we started dating. Oh, wait. You still do.” He stood up, hugging you from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder, small kisses being placed from you neck up to your cheek. “How about we drag the blankets out here. We can curl up on the couch and have a movie marathon. Whatever movies you want.”

You smirked, placing your hands over his, resting them on your stomach. “Whatever movies I want, huh? Why would you subject yourself to that torment? What if I choose to watch something super girly or something you don’t like?”

“Because I know you and we have the same taste in movies.” He spun you around, hugging you closer to him, his hand gripping your waist tightly. He backed you into the closest wall, leaning in so his lips barely brushed over yours. Your breath hitched, and you let out a few small pants, waiting for him to do something. “So, I’m not too worried about what you choose.”

“You sure do have a lot of faith in me,” you whispered to him, moving your hands to his neck. Your fingered laced in his hair, tugging slightly on it. He groaned, lifting you up. Your legs wound around his waist as he shoved you further into the wall and kissed you passionately.

Every time you kissed him, you felt a spark of electricity run through your body. Your lips molded together, in perfect unison. One of his hands unzipped the jacket slightly and brushed over your clothed breast, causing you to let out a moan into the kiss. His tongue found its way past your lips and he kneaded your breast harder through the fabric of his shirt. The fabric was thin, and you felt every curve in his hand as he moved in just the right ways to make you wet more than you already were.

His hand found your nipple, pinching it between his fingers. Breaking the kiss, you let out a loud, filthy moan. “Oh my god, Stuart. You are torturing me.”

He kissed your neck, sucking on a sensitive spot to draw another moan from your lips. “You think this is torture? Baby, I’ve barely begun.”

He fully unzipped the jacket you were wearing and tugged the shirt up, his lips latching onto one of your erect nipples. You mentally cursed yourself for being too lazy to put on a bra this morning. His tongue circle the nipple a few times before he took it between his teeth and tugged on it slightly. Your hands ran through his hair, your legs becoming weak.

He dipped in hand into your shorts and ran a finger through your folds. He let out a grunt against your breast, pulling from the nipple and resting his head in the valley of your breasts. “God, you’re already soaked. You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

You shook your head, wanting to feel his hand work its magic on your sensitive parts. “Naw, baby. I need to hear you say what you want,” He said, peppering kisses along your chest and collarbone. You couldn’t respond, your words caught in your throat. He teased your entrance with his finger before pulling away.

Whimpering, you rolled your head back against the wall, bucking your hips towards him to get in contact with his fingers. “Please, Stuart. I want to feel you inside me.”

He sucked on the inside of your breast, leaving a red mark in its wake. “You got it, baby girl.” Two fingers slipped inside your entrance, pumping quickly. You mewled at the pleasure he was giving you, growing louder as he curled his fingers perfecting to hit your g-spot. His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing feverishly to stimulate you.

Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Your moans grew louder with each passing second, with each thrust of his fingers inside your core. Your walls began to clench around his fingers, the aching throb and knot in your stomach growing more and more prevalent. “Stuart, I’m gonna cum.”

Before you could, however, he pulled his fingers from your core, leaving you whimpering and withering against him. He licked his fingers, enjoying the taste of you that came from them. “You always taste so good, babe.”

He lowered you onto the floor, keeping a hand on your waist to steady you. Before you could chew his ass out for denying you your beautiful orgasm, he hurried out of the kitchen. “I’m going to grab the blankets and get the couch set up! Pick a movie, and maybe make some popcorn! Thanks babe, you’re the best!”

You groaned and wobbled over to the table, leaning against it.

“You know you don’t toy with a girl’s emotions like that, Stuart. It’s not attractive!”

You growled, biting your nail a bit as you watched the bag of popcorn rotate in the microwave. Stuart was definitely an asshole, denying you the pleasure of a sweet orgasm.

Maybe you could get even?

You contemplated that idea for a second, before grinning and kind of jumping around the kitchen with excitement. He would never know what is coming.

You grabbed the popcorn as it finished, emptying it into a bowl. Grabbing two bottles of water as well, you headed into your living room to see Stuart set up every blanket you had in your bedroom along the couch. He grinned in success at all the blankets he had acquired.

“Are you building a blanket fort?” You asked in a snarky tone. “Or are you wanting me to sweat to death instead of freezing?”

He made a face, sticking his tongue out at you before taking the popcorn and waters. “Just pick your damn movie already,” He said, sitting on the couch.

You picked up a random dvd from the shelf and popped it in. X-Men. How perfect.

He groaned, sinking into the couch and you sat down, curling into his side. “Are you fucking serious? You want me to re-live the time we watched this with the trees, don’t you?”

You giggled and leaned you head on his shoulder as the movie began. “No. They aren’t here to talk through the entire thing about how their Professor X was “way meaner” than the movie one.” He brought the blankets closer around you guys, snickering at your comment and grabbing your hand, squeezing it lightly.

As the movie progressed, you couldn’t concentrate on what was happening. You glanced up at Stuart’s face, his eyes transfixed on the screen. Your eyes followed the trail of moles along his defined cheekbones. His mouth was parted slightly, his tongue darting out slightly every so often to wet his lips. He was the epitome of perfection.

You leaned over, kissing his cheek, your lips lingering for a second. He glanced at you briefly. “What’s up? Why aren’t you watching the movie?”

You smiled and kissed him on the lips. He gladly returned the kiss, entwining his fingers with yours. You smiled into the kiss before breaking it, breathing a small sigh against his lips. “I just love you. So much, Stuart.”

He placed one more chaste kiss on your lips. “I love you too. Now, let’s finish this movie.” He turned back to the tv, but you just nuzzled into his neck, placed sweet kisses along in. He shifted a bit in his seat, saying nothing about your actions, nor stopping them.

You unlinked your hands, and trailed your fingers along his leg. You saw him swallow, his eyes darting to you once before resuming their gaze on the screen. You grinned and nibbled at the soft part of his neck. A small moan escaped his throat, his hand grasping the blanket that was wrapped around you guys tighter.

Pulling at the collar of his shirt a bit, you kissed along his collar bone and shoulder, stopping occasionally to suck and leave a bright, red mark in its place. Kissing your way back up to his ear, you leaned in close, your breasts pressing against his arm. “Just keep your eyes on the movie and don’t mind me, ok Stewie?”

His breath caught in his throat, both turned on and annoyed. “No. Never Stewie. You know that.”

“I know,” You said, licking his earlobe and disappearing under the blankets. You rubbed the bulge in his sweatpants, feeling his thick cock straining against the material. You reached into his pants and boxers, gripping his cock, letting it pulse in your hand. Stuart let out a straggled gasp, feeling you pump him slowly.

“God, baby…” He mumbled, reaching under the blankets to pet your hair as you pumped him. You took the swollen tip into your mouth, swirling you tongue around it quickly. The taste of pre-cum hit your tongue and you moaned against him. Stuart grasped at your hair, pulling it slightly. You took him fully into your mouth, letting your tongue run along the underside of his throbbing cock, feeling the vein pulse. He moaned your name, helping guide your head as you sucked him.

You bobbed your head faster, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat on more than one occasion. He thrust his hips up, trying to meet your pace, the feeling of euphoria starting to fill him. “Right there, baby girl. Keep going. I’m so close.”

As soon as he said those words, you quickly removed yourself and emerged from the blankets, licking you lips in a satisfied manner. Stuart gaped at you, astonished by your actions. “That was fun Stewie. Let’s do it again sometime.”

He opened and closed him mouth multiple times, trying to find the right words. “Did you just do that to me? Seriously?” The look you gave him told him all he needed to know. “Okay. Point taken. I was an ass. I’m sorry I denied you your orgasm earlier. We are even now. Back to the movie now?”

He paused, staring at you. His eyes flicked down to your lips to find you biting at your bottom lip gently. You shifted net to him, and he could feel you rubbing your legs together under the blanket.

“Aw, fuck it.”

He pulled you into a rough kiss, pushing the blankets away and picking you up by the thighs. You held onto his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist tighter. He proceeded to carry you to the bedroom, almost tripping over the mounds of blankets that littered the floor around the couch, as well as the coffee table in the corner of the room.

He slipped your jacket off, dropping it in the middle of the hallway, and began to tug at your shirt, slipping it over your head before you could protest. He kicked the bedroom door closed, throwing you on the bed.

You bounded on the bed as he dropped you, your bare back hitting the sheets and a shiver ran down our spine from the contact. “Oh shit, the bed is cold without all the blankets on it.”

He tugged his own shirt over his head, discarding it without a second thought. “It’s ok. It won’t be cold in here for much longer.” He pounced on you, kissing you again and rolling his hips into your own. You moaned into his kiss, scratching at his back.

Your mouths stuck together and your tongues wrestled for dominance. His hand grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it and pinching your hardened nipple. You squirmed under his touch, heat pooling between your legs as he switched to please the other breast. Breaking the kiss, he sucked his way down your neck, between your breasts, until his mouth latched onto the unoccupied breast. His tongue did wonders on your nipple, your hand running through his hair.

He continued to kiss his way down your stomach, pulling your shorts and panties off and throwing them across the room. He didn’t hesitate to separate your legs and attach his lips to your clip, licking it ferociously. You screamed his name at the sudden contact, nearing your peak already. Two of his fingers found their way to your folds, shoving their way into your heat without warning. You came instantly at the contact, your body writhing underneath him.

He did not slow down, however.

He helped you ride out your high, but continued pumping his fingers into you, curling them and hitting every spot he knew you loved.

“S-Stuart please.” You voice came out unclear and whiney, desperate to feel something more than just his fingers. You needed more from him, you needed everything from him.

He came up and gave you a sensual kiss, neither of you caring that your juices were all over his lips. His fingers continued pumping, slowing down to tease you. “What’s wrong, baby girl? Did you need something.” You nodded you head quickly, trying to form coherent words for him. His thumb trailed over your clit, not applying enough pressure to drive you crazy but enough that your walls clenched in the tiniest bit. “I need to you say what you want.”

It took you a few tries to get words to form properly. “I-I need you. Please.”

He just shook his head, removing his fingers and licking them. Leaning over you, he rolled his hips against yours, his cock straining against his sweatpants and pressing into your core. You moaned again, much to Stuart’s pleasure. “You need me? That doesn’t really help, babe. Now, I will ask one more time. What do you want from me?”

Gulping down the moan you wanted to let you, you looked him in the eyes. “I need you to fuck me till I can’t walk tomorrow. Fuck me till I scream your name so loud, the neighbors know who I belong to. Make me cum until I have nothing left to produce.”

His eyes darkened, his tongue wetting his lips. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting for him to respond. “As you wish, kitten.”

He kicked away his sweatpants and boxers, pumping his cock a couple of times to prepare himself. You could see the pre-cum glisten around the tip, your tongue wetting your lips at the sight. He pulled your legs around him, running his cock along your folds, soaking in all your juices.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he slammed in quickly, his name erupting from your throat. He didn’t wait long for you to adjust before he was relentlessly slamming his hips into yours. He held your legs up to help him reach deeper spots, spots he had never reached before. He watched your breasts bounce with each thrust, leaning forward with a roll of the hips to take a nipple in his mouth.

Your hand grasped at the sheets, trying to keep in any kind of control. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, heavy pants could be heard from Stuart.

“Fuck baby. I feel you clenching. You are so tight. It feels great around my cock.” His words were filthier than usual, and you liked it. Your walls clenched around him again, your juices leaking around his cock to help keep his movements smooth. This was a different side of Stuart you weren’t used to, and you weren’t complaining.

“Stuart, keep going please.” He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, the new angle driving you insane. “Oh my god, Stuart. Right there. I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing this.”

Stuart seemed to like that response, as his thrusts got harder. Your second orgasm of the day came shortly after, hitting you harder than before. You vision blackened for a second, the immense pleasure washing over your entire body. Your walls clenched around Stuart as his breath hitched, a loud grunt coming from his lips. He came inside of you, his warm fluids filling you up.

You panted and Stuart stopped moving, dropping your leg from his shoulder. You glanced at him through half-lidded eyes. Leaning over you, he kissed you softly on the lips.

“Flip over, baby girl. I’m not done with you yet. Ass up for me, please.”

You groaned, but did as he said. You got on your hands and knees, sticking your ass against him. It was hard to stay upright. Your body was screaming at you, but you didn’t care. You wanted more.

You rubbed your ass against him, feeling him harden again after his orgasm. He groaned, rubbing his cock through your folds like before and easing into you. You moaned, shoving your face into a pillow. He waited longer than last time for you to adjust, rolling his hips into yours.

As his thrusts started to get faster and harder, you bit the pillow to suppress the whines and moans that wanted you. He gripped your hips, helping you meet his thrusts.

“Come on, baby. Don’t hold back on me. You wanted the neighbors to know who you belong to. So, let it all out.” He smacked your ass once, a moan falling freely from your lips as he rubbing your stinging ass. “That’s what I like to hear. Purr for me, ok kitten?” There he goes again with the filthy talk.

He smacked your ass again, the moans erupting from your throat louder each time he did. Your walls began to clench around his cock for the second time that night, nearing your orgasm.

“Stuart, please. I want to cum for you.” He let out a grunt, probably as a signal that he heard you. His thrusts were getting sloppier, but he tried to maintain enough of a rhythm to get you to your peak. With one more clench around his cock, you both came together. His cum mixed in with your juices, dripping down your leg a bit as he pulled out slowly. His cock twitched against your folds, a trail of cum linking him to you still. He groaned, collapsing next to you. Your arms and legs finally gave in, allowing you to fall face first into the bed.

The silence was comforting, the only noise being both of you trying to catch your breathe.

He slowly rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “That was probably the best sex we have had.”

You giggled, readjusting yourself to snuggle into his chest. “And the kinkiest. Kitten? Really, Stuart?”

He shrugged and kissed your forehead. “It sounded right for the moment. If you like it, maybe we can use it more often.”

You giggled and kissed his chest. “We’ll see how I feel about it when I am not about to pass out. Three orgasms will do that to you.”

He groaned at you. “Fine. Be a party pooper. It’s a snow day. Live a little.”

“Whatever, asshole. I did live a little. I spent the day with you and you are my life.” you replied, trying to drift off for some well-deserved rest. He smiled at your comment and nuzzled his face into your hair.

The silence only last a sec before you looked up at him one last time. “Stuart, I’m cold. The heater is still broken.”

He huffed and slowly climbed out of the bed. “I fucking hate you.”

“Love you too, Stewie.”

This was the good life.

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thcpariiah · 7 years

Text

file : find_common_ground.docx

TAGGING __ // STUART TWOMBLY, SCOTT MCCALL LOCATION __// THE UNDERGROUND ( COMMONS AREA ) TIME _ FRAME ___// RECENTLY INPUT_SUMMARY…?__// Scott visits the Underground to check on Stuart -- bringing him fresh pastries. They talk a little in the Commons Area.

Scott: Scott shifted the box full of still warm cinnamon rolls and scanned the hallway. He was seventy-five percent sure the next turn would have him at-- Scott stopped. The two hallway choices were nearly identical to him. Scott bit his lip. Okay. It was closer to sixty-five percent now. He picked the noisier option. More people meant he was bound to run into someone who knew where they were going. Scott followed the voices and emerged into a wider room with people. Scott spotted a familiar figure. Scott smiled. He'd lost his way, but he'd found the person he'd been looking for. "Hey." He lifted the box. "Cinnamon roll?" The offer sounded better than the first word he'd come up with.

Stuart

Stuart had ventured out of his room for the first time in a few days because he needed coffee -- he needed to get his computer back online and pick back up where he left off. He needed to ignore the yellow-black bruises still against the canvas of his porcelain flesh and try to at least pretend to be comfortable in his own skin again -- hopeful that he wouldn't get stopped by a soul that was far too curious and asked again about what went down, like it was nothing but a fun story to be told of adventures that some of the Underground members would never see. Never mind the mental anguish that even thinking about that murky, cold cell brought about.

He was testing a small sip of his coffee was he was beginning to make his way out of the commons area when a voice jolted him back to his senses -- lowering his cup with a grunt as he closed his eyes fleetingly to lower his heart rate from the surprise, his body still on the wrong side of jumpy. It meshed away from surprised, to merely confused -- eyes finding the box in the alpha's hands. "I -- what?"

Scott

He hadn't meant to surprise him.Scott opened the box,"Cinnamon rolls. Freshly baked. Pair well with coffee." This was better anyway.If Stuart had been in his room, maybe Scott wouldn't have found him at all. He didn't know much about Stuart, but he did know what he'd ordered at the cafe. Personalized gifts were better than random shots in the dark. "Man can't live on coffee alone, right?"

It was a flimsy excuse, but they had to start somewhere. And Scott knew what it was like to have people suddenly unsure of how they should deal with you. He figured Stuart would appreciate something more normal.

Stuart

He blinked a few times blankly as Scott spoke again, eyes finding the sweets in the box as his brows furrowed inwards -- almost as if he was expecting something to jump out of the box at him. He wasn't typically so paranoid -- and he knew he didn't have anything to fear from Scott, after all, he vaguely remembered Scott being with the group who helped take him from the government facility. But his nerves were still frayed in places -- causing them to spark uneasily while he relearned his calm.

" -- ... you brought me cinnamon rolls?" he asked, almost disbelieving as he pulled amber eyes back up to the alpha.

Scott: Stuart blinked, his cup poised in his hand, and brow wrinkled in confusion. Scott didn't see what was stunning about the situation. He chose to ignore the confusion. "Yeah. I mean, I can't eat all of them myself. I might as well share them." Stuart wouldn't need werewolf senses to see through his words. Scott had specifically bought them for him. Operation: Befriend the Coffee Drinking Hacker was a go. He couldn't help whatever the other was going through right now. And cinnamon rolls wouldn't make it better, but maybe it would be something good? A little bit of good could go a long way.

Stuart

After their initial meeting, Stuart had been convinced that Scott didn't exactly like him -- and he wasn't convinced that giving himself up in lieu of his brother was a fix-all; even if he knew that if they hadn't come when they had, it would've been much worse. Possibly to the point of being unfixable. (And it wasn't like Stuart had actually expected anyone to come for him. He knew they would go looking, but -- Akilah's stubbornness once again payed off in her favor.) And, especially after Stuart's recent development with Allison -- which he was also not eager to bring up to Scott -- he wouldn't have been surprised if Scott outright hated him. Possibly trying to see it through his eyes, Scott could very well think that he was trying to steal his best friend as well as his first love.

" -- why?" he asked, finally, with some apprehension.

Scott: Scott had been guarded in his first meeting with him. He hadn't expected to meet with someone with such a resemblance to Stiles. Void had cut deep in more ways than one. And after how many times new people had meant misery? New made Scott wary even if he was more tactful with his concerns than Stiles. The last four years hadn't helped either. They lent themselves to suspicion. But there was enough strife in his life. If there was an opportunity to add good to his own life AND help someone who was already important to Stiles, he was going to try. And he owed him. If Stuart hadn't gone, Stiles would have. Add Allison clearly feeling Stuart meant something to her, too? (Exactly what, wasn't something he was allowed to pry into now.) He would try. But he couldn't say all that here. "Why not?" Maybe he shouldn't give him an out. He might come up with an actual reason. "Or a thank you.A very poor thank you, but..." Maybe they didn't need to get into that. "Or maybe I had way too many cinnamon rolls this morning? Take your pick."

Stuart

Stuart once more blinked a few times, confused by the sudden change in attitude from the alpha -- eyes darting between the sweets and the other's expression. "For what?" he asked when Scott told him it was a thank you. He hadn't done what he did for thanks. He did what he did because of his brother. Because Stuart wasn't going to allude himself into thinking that he was more important than Stiles to Le Chassé. Sure, what he was able to do with computers was great -- but the rapport and friendship, and the love behind it, that Stiles had for the majority of the group was more important than a computer genius with no social skills and an asshole attitude to boot. He wasn't going to pretend that the rebellion couldn't continue without him, even after all he had done and the progress he had helped them achieve. He had seen his actions as the only logical step to make -- even if he didn't know what awaited him where he was taken; nor was he prepared for the recovery that still left his cheeks gaunt and on the wrong side of pale.

"I didn't do ... what I did to try and make myself heroic in anyone's mind. I'm not going to entertain the idea that Le Chassé would've suffered a more loss of me being gone, rather than Stiles. Stiles has a lot of things that I do not."

Scott: "Le Chasse,"repeated Scott in disbelief. "Le Chasse is important, but..." Is that what Stuart thought he meant? Le Chasse? Stuart had more in common with Stiles than he realized. Stiles before he'd realized his own powers had questioned his own value to the pack. Hell, he still probably did. The stakes were higher now, but Scott wouldn't have that with him. Or Stuart. "I'm not thanking you for preserving a key members of a rebellion. I--I'm barely down here. And I know that's going to change, probably sooner than I'd like, but... Stiles is my brother, too. You mentioned Le Chasse, but it wasn't just about that for you.Was it?" Scott shook his head. "Just because Stiles is important to Le Chasse. that doesn't mean you are any less important to all this."

Stuart: His tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip when Scott spoke again, swallowing fleetingly around a dry throat. "No," he admitted softly when Scott asked him if it wasn't just Le Chassé. He cleared his throat fleetingly, averting his eyes with a soft shrug of his shoulder. "Stiles is my brother. And I know him and I are vastly different. And I know I make it difficult for him to connect with me. But that doesn't mean that I don't care about him. That doesn't mean I don't feel the same connection that he does. Stiles had nothing to do with the nature of why I wasn't raised with him, and it's not his fault Noah never told him about me. I care about him, and I know everyone else does too. If I hadn't done what I did, Stiles would have. And I couldn't stomach the idea of something like that happening to someone like Stiles. Regardless, it did come down to who was more important -- even if not to the rebellion, but to individuals. They had Noah, and lord knows what they planned on doing to him. Something had to give."

Scott

Old habits meant it took him a second to realize Noah meant Stiles' dad. Scott's mom was the only one who referred to him as 'Noah' on a regular basis around Scott. He didn't want to make Stuart uncomfortable. But there was no avoiding this now. Stuart said Stiles would've turned himself in. "I know. I was trying to talk him out of it." Did that make these 'Sorry, I feel guilty' cinnamon rolls, too? He hadn't considered that possibility. Talking Stiles out of it had left room for Stuart to jump in."There weren't any good options." Scott closed the cinnamon roll box and held it out. "Still, if it means anything you didn't have to choose that. You went beyond what anyone would've ever asked. And I didnt mean to bring all this up. I swear. I thought maybe you'd want something nice. Normal. Because I know what it's like for people to suddenly see you differently, over something you've never asked for...But I can go."

Stuart

" -- I tried to talk him out of it, too.." he murmured, raking his teeth across his bottom lip and failing to try and ignore the memory of Stiles' panic running haywire in his own chest; their connection something that Stuart was still miles from understanding - or even feeling comfortable with, wondering if any good actually could come out of feeling the larger spectrum of each other's emotions.

I had no other option. Honestly, in all reality, Stuart knew that he did. But, he couldn't sit idly by and just watch Stiles turn himself in when he just got the usage of his powers back. Even if that meant Stuart forfeiting his own freedom and safety. " -- I haven't know what normal felt like since I was eighteen," he admitted softly, his eyes once more finding the box that was offered to him -- lips thinning as he let out a relenting sigh, gently taking it from the other. "You don't -- you don't have to leave," he said after a long beat of silence. "I just -- I'm not really good at this, Scott."

Scott: Multi-emotional expression Cinnamon Rolls. The thought was almost funny. Scott's reasons for talking Stiles out of it had been more selfish. He hadn't wanted to lose Stiles to who knew what. If Scott had a say, they would've rescued the Sheriff if possible and Scott would've moved himself and his Mom here or get her somewhere safer. As it was, Scott had been almost useless during a rescue attempt. And had only managed to be an inadequate shield. Cora had simply leapt where she pleased. And Scott had been too slow on multiple actions. Scott released the box and half-turned to leave, but Stuart stopped him with his words. Scott didn't know where to go from here. "No one's good at this. You don't have to be good at --" At what? Difficult conversations? Dealing with traumatic events? "--good at dealing with stuff. You just...try. That's all you can do."

Stuart: He let out a slightly bitter laugh -- more at himself rather than Scott -- as he shook his head for a fleeting moment. "Any of this," he clarified. As a child, Stuart didn't have many friends. ( One. He had one friend. Akilah. Who now played for the opposite side. ) The only time that he actually felt cared for as a child as around his parents, and Akilah. But; Stuart was okay with that. He didn't need a massive collection of friends. Honestly, he didn't have the tolerance for it. But after he lost his family, and after he left Akilah behind, he had felt ... unbelievably lonely for the first time in his life -- even while helping Le Chassé. It was only after coming here that that changed. That he had more than one person he could ... consider a friend. He had a brother. He had ... -- he had Allison. And then suddenly some of that had been put at risk and Stuart had no idea what to do with himself. "As a kid, I never had to deal with traumatic experiences until after I lost my family. I wasn't bred around it like Beacon Hills is. I don't --" he scoffed, shrugging a shoulder, "I don't know how to handle any of this. This isn't just a computer algorithm that I can crack."

Scott: Was everyone in Beacon Hills bred around tragedy? The Hales and Kate. Claudia Stilinski's death. Isaac and his father (and his brother's death for a time). Scott didn't consider his childhood to be tragic. His parents had divorced and he'd had a few brushes with asthma related incidents. But that kind of death while scary as a possibility had been explainable. Was that it's own kind of messed up? That he was distinguishing it from post-bite scenarios in his head? "I'm not sure what you mean, but...maybe don't try to handle it or crack it on your own? That never helps.And when you find people you care about keep them close. Take the wins. Even they're stupid and small?That's what you can do."

Stuart

His eyes dropped for a moment -- and he wasn't even sure at this point what caused the words that he said. He wasn't a sharer by any means. And it was definitely more words than he had said to most people in the Underground. Perhaps it could be blamed on the fact that he still felt exposed and vulnerable. Nasty memories of bruises still against his skin, and an almost haunted look in his eyes when he thought that no one was looking. As much as he tried to pull up the walls he was usually so used to being so safely behind, his foundation was still cracked. He just couldn't afford the time anymore to sit around and let himself recover. Especially not after learning that something had been done to Cora -- and, especially now that he knew the same could've been done to him, Stuart needed to invest the time in figuring out what.

"You and Stiles, and your pack -- you all dealt with so much shit before you even graduated high school. Dread Doctors and alpha packs. Dark kistunes. That's nothing that a teenager needs to worry about -- but you did it. I never had to deal with any of that. Despite always having my magic, it was never a problem for me. My town was small, and ignored." Stuart was not hardened by the events in his life, but rather only hardened on surface value -- and the surface was apparently much too easy to crack.

Scott: This. This was one of the reasons he avoided this place and dreaded the day if or when it would become necessary to be here more often. Scott couldn't fortune cookie, Hallmark-card his way out. If there was to be any trust here, he owed him the truth, too. Scott exhaled slowly."We did. We dealt with it,"said Scott. But it wasn't that simple. "I don't know what people actually know. But when people bring those things up it's like...highlight reel. They--they all make it sound like we were bad-ass and strong and capable the entire time like we're a threat. They leave out our mistakes, our pain, our terror and how we didn't know what we were doing. Us surviving--gets turned into triumphs." And it was infuriating. But it also wasn't Stuart's fault. Scott let out a breath slowly."What I mean, is we weren't stronger than anyone else. We're not better or braver than anyone else.And you are not weaker because you haven't gone through the same amount of shit. I'm glad that you haven't. I'm glad you had more time."

Stuart

Stuart shook his head ever so slightly, "I understand that it's not all black and white," he breathed. "But that's not the point. The point is that you still powered through, and you're still ... " Stuart trailed off for a moment, lost for the right word. "You still believe in the best of people. You might not trust me, but that's an entirely different story. Trust and seeing the good in someone is two totally different things." He was at least akin to his brother in the way that he couldn't always see the good in everyone -- sometimes, he even didn't want to. Like the faceless men in the white coats who wanted to put the strange device in his head. The men who somehow thought that that was okay and humane.

Albeit, Stuart cleared his throat and shook his head, "I'm sorry. This is not why you came down here," he finally breathed with a rough shake of his head. "Thanks for the cinnamon rolls," he breathed, glancing down at the box in his hand before back to the alpha. "And -- uh..." he faltered before sucking in another breath. "Thanks for helping to get me out. And making sure that Allison got out, too." He knew breaching Allison between them was probably a shaky subject, but he also knew that completely skirting around her wouldn't get him very far in the long run.

Scott

It's not his fault. It isn't. Scott bit his tongue and decided to focus on listening to him. Not whether anyone else was listening. Not about the million reasons he found it harder to focus down here: Darkness, enclosed spaces, chemicals in pipes, and not quite stale air, metal and cement and all of those little things that reminded him of other places where he'd felt all of what he'd described briefly to Stuart. Focus. What was Stuart saying? Trust him? He wanted to, he did. He wouldn't lie about that, but saying it out loud? That he didn't trust him even after he'd nearly sacrificed himself for Stiles. That would be an insult. And they were already on uneven footing. Scott only knew one immensely important act of Stuart's--besides the work he'd done for Le Chasse. The rest? Stuart probably knew much more about him.

"You don't have to thank me for that." He'd barely done anything. Stealing things from a dead man while wearing a hockey mask was hardly an achievement. "I'm glad you're both safe."

Stuart: "I don't have to," he agreed with a small shake of his head, "But I will. You didn't have to be there. You can't use your abilities like the rest of them could -- and you're not a trained hunter like Kara and Allison is. You didn't have to risk yourself to be there, especially when you're one of the few left on Topside -- and one of the few still off the Wanted lists. You could have easily have sat it out and no one would've thought less of you for it. But you didn't." He huffed out a breath and gave a loose shrug of his shoulders. "That's not lost on me, whether you think that I should thank you for it, or not. I know you don't particularly like me, and that's okay -- I don't need you to. And I know you only did it for Stiles, and I'm not going to pretend any different. But I still appreciate it. I want you to know that."

Scott: There was a fine line between caution and cowardice. He would've thought less of himself. Stiles hadn't needed powers to make a difference years ago. Nor had Scott's mom and Stiles' dad --both of them were completely human. He'd come for Stiles,for Allison,and for someone who'd risked his own life for the past four years for all of them. Stuart wasn't wrong,though. Being there for Stiles had outweighed the other considerations. And Allison had only just returned to them. Admitting Stuart came third on the list wouldn't help this conversation. And Scott had no idea how to react to someone praising him when part of his motivations had been selfish. "I don't know you yet. That's different from not liking you.But what I do know is this place wouldn't even be running the way it is without you. And you've been making sacrifices for 4 years--long before you chose to do what you did."

Stuart

Stuart understood that he wasn't the easiest person to get to know. Stiles had made an effort -- but he also had a reason to make an effort. Allison was -- ... It was a sequence of lucky happenstances that brought them together in silences that had grown into much more than that. But, once again, he almost felt guilty thinking about Allison in the presence of Scott. Almost. He just didn't want the other to feel he was being malicious in his intentions with Allison towards him. It was anything but.

"You don't have to pretend that I'm not an asshole," was his simple response. He grew up understanding that he had an unlikable personality. He didn't need people to like him to be able to do his job. It was ... refreshing, yes, to have people who he almost considered friends. But, he also didn't want to force the alpha into feeling like he had to enjoy his presence only because he was his best friend's brother.

Scott: Scott snorted,"I don't know whether you are one or not. How could I pretend anything?" He'd met people who were killers; deceivers, self-serving opportunists; ambitious, power hungry graspers; and, garden variety jerks and bullies. He didn't see that with Stuart. "But assholes don't think they're assholes. They think they're completely right about everything." And usually made everyone around them miserable. "Why are you so committed to convincing me you're unlikable? If you are, I'd find out on my own, wouldn't I?" If Scott had been a mind-reader, he would've pointed out people had rarely been successful at forcing him to do things. Join Derek's pack. Stop trying to save everyone. Stay dead. Scott was generally more inclined to trying to make peace, but he could be just as stubborn.

Stuart

A frown formed against his lips when Scott spoke. Truth be told, he didn't expect the reply from him -- the corners of his lips reaching downwards as he let out a sharp breath. Currently, his inhibitions were broken and scattered and his state was more vulnerable than he was accustomed to. And while he thought it would make him lash out more -- the honest truth was that, unless he felt threatened, it had him speaking more than he was usually inclined to. And while he wasn't sure how he personally felt about Scott, he didn't feel threatened around.

"I was never really good at making friends," was his response to Scott's words. "It was easier to just push people away -- they always thought that I would be different than the way I always initially acted. I assumed that that made me an asshole."

Scott: "I only had one for a really long time." Friendly with a lot of people didn't equate to a lot of friends. There was a difference. And he hadn't really needed more. Quality not quantity had definitely applied to their situation. And he wasn't trying to push the Stiles as best friend as an angle. It was extremely relevant to the conversation and unavoidably what had lead them here.

"I don't even know how that happened.Him peeing on my sandcastle isn't what you expect for a solid foundation of friendship."

Stuart

Despite himself, Stuart snorted slightly at Scott's words. He shifted to lay both his coffee mug and the box of pantries down on the table so that he could sit down on the ratted couch nearby -- his sore body beginning to protest standing too long, muscles aching and screaming and not quite concealing a wince as he lowered himself down; trying to hide it by grabbing his mug and taking a small sip of cooling caffeine.

"He pissed on your sand castle?" he echoed with a small shake of his head. " -- my only friend was a girl named Akilah. She -- Kara had contact with her, and she's one of the reasons you guys were able to find me. She basically just spent every lunch period staring me down behind her food until I agreed to sit with her. That's how she became my friend."

Scott

"Yeah, it was a good sandcastle,too. I made him apologize. Or maybe my Mom did." Scott pulled napkins from the paper bag he'd brought the cinnamon rolls in. He noted Stuart's wince, ignored the impulse to ask if he was alright,and the second urge to reach out a hand to siphon pain away. Scott hadn't managed to find the infirmary again on his own since Allison and Stuart had been taken there by Derek and Isaac.He could've asked,but he'd talked himself out of going to see them. And then Allison had left the infirmary. She'd probably gone back to her room. Scott sat and leaned closer in to offer Stuart napkins.And caught a familiar scent off of Stuart's clothes. "You've seen Allison? How is she?"

Stuart

His eyes darted over to Scott as he moved closer and offered him a napkin -- lowering his mug to reach out and take one before the male was speaking again. "You -- " before he was able to ask, though, he cut himself off as his brain caught up to the other's words -- and he realized. Oh. He probably smelled of Allison; against his clothing, against his skin. And with that thought, he tore his eyes away from the other.

"She's ... She'll heal just fine. It might scar, but Deaton told her she was lucky it wasn't a few inches lower -- it could've gotten her heart. Or her lungs." As it was, it merely had embedded itself in her shoulder blade before one of the infirmary nurses had taken it out. "She's in a lot of pain, but --" He trailed off with a small shrug of his shoulder, a nasty twist of guilt in his stomach. "She'll heal."

Stuart

He licked his lips tentatively for a moment before hesitantly bringing his gaze back to the alpha. While there was an inkling of guilt, he refused to be apologetic about himself and Allison. The guilt was merely situational -- from standing here in front of Scott in the light of talking about his first love who "died" in his arms. Stuart might have had his shortcomings, but he didn't lack empathy. But that didn't mean he was going to step down from whatever him and Allison were becoming, nor was he going to deny it.

"I know what you meant," he reassured him after a moment.

Scott: "Oh. Good."He needed to pick another word.The English language had a billion of them. Preferably words that didn't circle back to the ones Stuart had highlighted like "heart" and "lungs" that Scott's brain unhelpfully associated with "Theo" and "weaponized wolfsbane." Or "death." There's one that kept swirling back. Any other words would be better.He needed to direct his attention to something else. He opened the cinnamon roll box,removed a roll with a napkin, and offered it to Stuart."And that's another point in favor of non-asshole-ness.She wouldn't have gone in after you if she didn't care." She definitely wouldn't have gone in alone. He scooped up a roll for himself. It was still warm in his hand. He'd thought more time had passed since he'd left the cafe. It was something normal, simple, and solid. At least, the rolls were helping someone even if he'd intended to help Stuart not himself.

Stuart

Stuart was thankful that Allison's injury hadn't been worse than it was -- and, even so, there was a strong sense of guilt about him because of it. If he hadn't let Allison get so close, she wouldn't have felt the need to come alone. And if she hadn't come alone, then she would've never have been hurt. The stranger -- the guard -- would have never have been killed. And -- even if he had spoken with no one about it, even Allison -- the guilt over taking a life, even in the dazed state he had been in -- and even to save Allison's life -- was another hit against his will that he was trying to internalize.

He took the roll, almost hesitantly, as it was offered to him -- leaning more so against the couch and letting the light pain from the adjustment roll down his spine. " -- she wouldn't have been hurt if she hadn't come after me." Or if she had just waited, a portion of his guilt leaking out. And, by proxy, a peak into the fact that Stuart genuinely did care quite a bit about her as well.

Scott: "She fights for the people she cares about. She would've come. Should she have waited? Maybe. But she could've gotten hurt even if she had waited, too." She hadn't been the only one willing to risk themselves for Stuart just the most eager. His friend that Kara spoke about came to mind. Stiles. People did care. It made Stuart's perception of being unlikable even more confusing for Scott. "You're important to her." It wasn't his place to poke into whatever it was. She and Scott had already broken up before they parted. And even if that hadn't been the case, someone deserved happiness in the middle of all this. Friendship or something else? It didn't matter. Being alive meant she had to actually live, too. "You don't have to feel guilty about that. And someone else hurt her. Not you."

Stuart: Stuart was well aware that he would've been in worse shape if Allison hadn't come when she had -- the perpetual haunting and stereotypical phrase just in time came to mind; the haze of the sedative they had given him still a terror that haunted him when he closed his eyes. And the wonderful girl who deserved much better than him shoving her way through the fog of it to drag him out until the others could find them. He cleared his throat when Scott spoke, the corners of his lips twitching as he ducked his head down, "She's important to me, too --" he breathed, hoping the wasn't breaching an unspoken line with the alpha. "Which is exactly why I feel guilty."

Scott: "I'd say you don't have to feel guilty about that either, but I know people don't get a choice in how they feel." He unraveled a piece off his cinnamon roll. "Guilt's one of those stupid ones that likes sticking around." It liked settling in, stacking one reason on top of another weighing a little heavier as time went on. "It lies and tries convince you that you shouldn't accept the good things that come your way..." He didn't want that for himself or Stuart or Allison or Stiles or anyone. If only emotions were dispatched with a swift upper-cut, a bite, or a magic word. Scott would rather exhaust himself fighting than dealing with what was in his head sometimes.

Stuart

He let out a small breath at that. Guilt wasn't something he was overly used to feeling -- nor were the other emotions that were sticking around. Like fear. Mental anguish. Anything and every thing that kept him from having a decent night's sleep here recently. Clinging to him like a sickness, or a disease. Deeper and harder than any of the bruises against his skin. He shook his head, carding a hand through unruly hazelnut locks before he was picking at the edge of the roll.

"I guess I'm just -- I'm not used to people actually caring."

Scott: "Your friend...the one that's also good with computers. She's definitely cared for a while." Scott had always felt that if you cared about someone or something you showed it with actions. His mom healed people with her sense of humor and medical knowledge. The Sheriff proved he cared even when it was saying things in exasperated tones with them. He'd been lucky in that way. His circle had been smaller when he was younger, but he had always known he was loved. He hadn't considered a what a world would be like if you thought people didn't care. "I guess...it just took an intense situation that required people doing something that proved they cared for you to know? "

Stuart: "Akilah," he breathed when Scott mentioned his friend from before all of this started. "-- she did. I -- does." It was different with Akilah, somehow. He knew things would be easier if Akilah still assumed that he was dead. But, at the same time, if Akilah hadn't helped, they would have never found him. Thinking about her only hurt; because she was all he had left when his parents died, and he was forced to leave her behind. Because she was so bright. And so wonderfully human that he didn't want to drag her down with him. " -- I'm just ... not comfortable with the knowledge that there are people willing to risk their lives to save mine."

Scott: Scott nodded when Stuart said his friend's name. He hadn't known what words to say or what would reassure Stuart throughout any of this. He still didn't. "They believe you're worth it. I don't think there's anything I can say right now that's going to make you comfortable with knowing people are willing to risk so much. But..." What was he trying to say? "You believe their lives are valuable. And they believe your's is too. Isn't that a good thing? Valuing that. Wanting people who are good to keep existing in this world." Loyalty. Friendship. Love. All of those things gave life meaning. "It's scary and it hurts because it matters."

Stuart

" -- it's not a good thing when it ends up getting them killed," he breathed, just thankful that Allison, or Stiles, or Scott, or any of the others weren't killed in an effort to rescue him. Moving on from what happened was difficult -- but, he didn't know if he would've been able to at all if they lost anyone because of him. ( And -- despite his brother's insisted apology, he refused to blame Stiles. Even though Stiles had a reckless personality, it wasn't his fault that Cora had exposed him. Everything drew back around to the government. To the stupid laws that divided them. )

It was a rough line -- deciding where to draw it in the sand. He had never allowed himself to open up enough to let some many people in before it was dangerous to do. And now more than ever, he was terrified of losing the people had had grown to care for in such a small amount of time.

Scott

"No, it's not." It would never be a good thing. And if he could shield anyone from that pain, he would. "All we can do is try to keep that from happening." It wasn't up to him. There were no guarantees. Scott had almost died so many times he'd stopped trying to keep track. "The safest option in theory would be for everyone to hide.And stop doing what we've been doing."

It wasn't simple and both of them knew that. "But then,what? Let the hunters take everything?Let the violent supernaturals feed into the public's fear? Wait until the hunters or the other side come for everyone not like them? They're not going to stop."

And if Stuart and Scott had been the type of people who could sit back and watch that happen, they wouldn't be here."I don't know if I still have the power to make any sort of difference.But I try.At least, I'll know I did everything I could."

Stuart

Stuart let out a breath and shook his head -- he wasn't sure if he would've started in this fight if it hadn't been for his brother's connection. But, at this point, even if Stiles was somehow not involved, Stuart knew he still would fight. At this point, he knew he was on the right side and he would do nothing to stop himself from helping as much as he could. Even only his skills could just take him so far -- he couldn't get as deep into hyperspace as he wished he could, walls thrown up at every angle the deeper he got, and he knew better than to endanger Akilah and ask her help -- she had endangered herself enough without Stuart asking her.

"We're all just doing what we can."

#mission : chatzy #c: s. mccall #chatzy 009

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thcpariiah · 7 years

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file: like_nicotine.docx

TAGGING __ // STUART TWOMBLY, ALLISON ARGENT LOCATION __// UNDERGROUND ( STUART’S QUARTERS ) TIME _ FRAME ___// RECENTLY INPUT_SUMMARY…?__// When Stuart is settled on what he plans to do the next morning, he wants to find a way to let Allison know that he feels ... something for her, despite not knowing what it is. During one of their nightly time in silence they spend together, what Stuart initially intends as a kiss goes much further -- and, at the end of it, Stuart knows the guilt will later eat him alive. [ TW for smut. ] [ CHATZY LOG ]

Stuart

There was a sharp twist of his nerves as he brought his eyes up to Allison -- the twisted nerves were a combination of things. Some of that -- a lot of that, actually -- originated from what he planned to do in the morning. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he was terrified, but swallowing his emotions were what he did best. And, that wasn't what was pressing right in that moment in time -- it was the girl standing in front of him, and looking at him like he had three heads. He had gone quiet, eerily so -- not his usual quiet, but a more anxious and unsteady quiet -- and he knew it was concerning her. He wasn't good with things like this, and his thoughts were doing nothing but making him more anxious the more seconds ticked by.

So, he stopped thinking. He closed the space between them -- fully aware that the ramifications of his actions could push her away from him ( but, it wasn't like he would be here much longer ), but he wanted her to know that she meant something to him before he left, even if he himself wasn't sure what that was. He was all jittery inexperience -- as he had never as much as kissed anyone -- but he pressed forward still. One hand gingerly smoothing across her shoulder, the other tipping her chin up with a finger and his thumb before he closed the gap of air between them with a soft and gentle kiss.

Allison

When he had fallen silent, Allison had grown concerned, having come to his room to check on him after the news of Stiles' allegiance being discovered. They stood in a tense silence foreign to her interactions with Stuart for what felt like forever, Allison finding her stomach knotting with nerves by the time he was moving towards her.

It was such a foreign action to her, with a look of pure nervous concentration on his face, that she almost took a step back - opening her mouth to ask if he was alright before he was right there and taking a hold of her chin. His hand on her shoulder set her skin alight with goosebumps, causing her to both melt and feel even more confusion as, still without words, Stuart was kissing her. Allison felt her brain shut down, moments later, as her hands moved from uselessly hanging at her sides to knot a fist in his shirt. Pulling him closer to her in an action that she was so embarrassed of because of course she had thought of Stuart that way but it had seemed so impossible that she had quelled the feeling and stuffed it in the far reaches of her mind.

Stuart

He doesn't know what kind of reaction was expecting from the girl -- but this was definitely not it. He wasn't complaining in the slightest -- as it was not unwelcome -- but it merely caught him off guard in the way that she twisted her fingers into his clothing and pulled him closer. He stumbled -- embarrassed in the fact that this, this was something he was unfamiliarity with. And, for once, his actions almost mirrored in twin's with all uncoordinated unfamiliar -- and all eager as his hand moved from her shoulder to thread into her hair and deepen it, eyes slipping closed as he did so.

He took a harsh breath through his nose, mentally reminding himself what this was supposed to be -- but finding himself battling himself internally when, for the first time in his life, human desire sparked and ignited a hot flame from the way she had desperately returned it, and he was tempted to turn a blind eye to what he should do. What he should do was to end it right then and there and leave it as it was -- but, that's not what he wanted to do, with how receptive she already was. So he didn't, merely using his grip on her chin to tilt her head more so as his tongue came to feather across her lips -- he may have been inexperienced, but he was also a keen learner.

Allison

Allison barely noticed the clumsiness with which he stumbled towards her, the way he eagerly deepened the kiss setting a fire in her stomach that made her simultaneously tentative and eager. She pressed against him, hands splaying across his chest as she flattened them between their bodies. This was so strange but part of her was nervous to question it. About to pull away to question him, despite herself, Allison groaned - one that did not complain in the slightest about his actions - as he tilted her head, tongue venturing across her lips.

Any thoughts she had flew out of her mind as her lips parted, granting him the access he sought. She was still so confused, but she found that she didn't care, the fire in her stomach spreading across her skin wherever he touched. Allison felt her heart hammering against the back of her hand, flying a mile a minute at the pure impossibility of this - perhaps she was dreaming. It made more sense than this being a reality, with Stuart pressed against her with an eagerness that she had never seen from him in all their time together.

Stuart

He was almost afraid that she would pull away and shatter it all -- the question of his motivations might just break the entire moment, as he was not prepared to explain himself. Not just ill prepared -- but unwilling. Because, he knew if it he did, she would stop him. There was no try to it, because Stuart was not stupid enough to underestimate Allison Argent. If she knew, she would stop him. It was as simple as that.

He let out a soft, satisfied noise as she parted her lips for him -- slipping his tongue in and exploring her, smoothing a hand down the back of her neck with broad fingers and letting himself learn everything that had never know before. The way the human body heated under the sensual touch -- the way his stomach twisted and coiled with a heat so sharp that it was almost painful. The way he longed... -- oh, that was a new feeling. A magnetic, lustful pull to the girl as she allowed it to deepen. Human err now beginning to seep into his own decisions, and he wondered if he was already in too deep.

His free hand moved to her hip, lingering there atop her clothing as he did not know how far she would be willing to go -- how far she wanted to go, and he did not want to pressure her. Even if his body was already screaming and his mind was going into hyperdrive. Hands now shaking, glasses fogging ever so slightly from their combined body heat and hot breaths.

Allison

The noise he made set Allison's thoughts even farther from her mind, occupied now fully with him. The feel of his tongue against hers and of his fingers sliding down her body. As he toyed with her emotions, Allison took a step back, pulling him with her until the back of her knees were hitting the bed and his hands were resting - almost questioningly - on her hips.

It was as though each part of her body screamed for him, her hands sliding down to his hips until she was pulling away from the kiss and allowing her fingers to leave his body as she slid herself onto his bed. Looking at him, Allison realized how badly she wanted him, with his lips parted with heavy breaths and his glasses fogged from the sudden heat in the room.

Unable to find the words to challenge whatever it was that was happening between them - because it felt so right - she found herself leaning forwards to take his hand, giving it the slightest of tugs towards herself and the bed.

Stuart

His entire body was aching with a primal need that he had never experienced before -- surging through each nerve in him, pulsing through his very core. Yes -- he was a young male. He had been horny before. He had jerked himself off before. He was not immune to those desires. But this...-- Oh, this was entirely new to him and he was so ready to take a deep plunge and let himself be consumed by it ; for once in his life, not concerned with the after -- He didn't want to think about the after. If he did, it would stop the now. Because he shouldn't be letting it go this far. So -- he stopped thinking about it and focused instead on her.

He stumbled a little as she pulled away from him -- mute confusion evident against his features as his chest heaved with harsh breaths that shook his entire frame with the harshness of it all; blinking at the blurred vision against the light fog of his lenses.

But, before he could inquire just what ---- Allison was taking his hands and tugging him towards his bed where she had already situated herself. He took it as the invitation it was, fully prepared to stop whenever she would voice it, as he climbed onto the bed. He was too high-strung, too deep into it to be rational. ( He could be respectful, but not rational. ) His long legs bracketed on either side of her, hands coming back to her hips -- lengthy digits sneaking slightly up the bottom hem of her shirt and smoothing against the skin there as he pressed in for a deeper, more heated kiss. Pressing in and he pressed her into the bed.

Finally -- for the first time, he spoke, " -- this ... this okay?" he asked, needing -- needing the confirmation and the consent as he panted against her lips.

Allison

This was one of the things Allison had not experienced in years - closed away in a compound where she was given little privacy and not noticed at the same time. Allison had received compliments, and advances, but nothing had made her ache in the way that Stuart's harsh breaths made her ache. With her heart in her throat, Allison sighed with her desire as his fingers on her skin rose goosebumps. One hand on his shoulder, the other sliding down his back, Allison returned his kiss enthusiastically, nipping at his lower lip.

She had to stop herself from whining as he pulled away from her lips. Eyes opening to gaze at him, Allison nodded, voice lagging behind her thoughts as a moment later she was murmuring a yes and lifting her lips to his again. She didn't understand it, but she didn't care - every small amount of contact making her feel wanted, validating all of the moments that she had stopped to watch him work on his computer in quiet wonder.

Stuart

He nodded silently in return, and it was all he needed. He pressed back in, this time to dip down and kiss at her neck -- once more eager to explore her in all that she was, teeth nipping lightly at the skin before merely mouthing at the curve of her neck -- mindful enough, at least, to know not to leave behind marks. His hands on her hips continued to wander -- ever so slowly so that she could stop him. Up her sides, and up her ribcage -- touch curious at the way her body was shaped, the way it was created. The way it dipped under his finger tips before the tops of his fingers found the edging of her bra, smoothing his fingers under the wire ever so slightly.

At the same time, he pressed himself down against her -- almost on instinct -- marveling at the way they slotted together and -- oh. He faltered with his attention at her neck with a harsh gasp at the friction the movement created against his denim-covered interest, instead now whimpering with weakness as he trembled once.

Allison

Allison gasped at his teeth against her skin, staring at the ceiling as her fingers carded through his hair. She tilted her head, exposing more of her throat to him as though encouraging his actions, asking for more. His touch made her shiver, body arching up against his at the feel of his fingers against her bare skin. It drove her near insane, his touch so slow and yet so curious, biting down on her lip as his fingers slid just slightly under the wire of her bra.

His gasp had her opening her eyes, fingers sliding down his back to the hem of his shirt as a whimper escaped him - coupled with a tremble that made her grateful she was not standing for her knees went weak. "Stuart," She breathed his name, questioning as though she wasn't sure how far they were going - desire pooling in her abdomen as her fingers slid beneath his shirt, sliding up taut muscles in wonder.

Stuart

He shivered harshly as hands drove across his heated flesh -- and, god, he wanted. He just wanted so much. There was too much clothing between them -- not enough bare skin for him to explore, for his hands to wander over and discover. God -- he just... - he didn't know what to do with himself. And that should've terrified him. And maybe, under normal circumstances, it would've. But -- it didn't. It made him curious. It made him want everything and anything all at the same time.

When she spoke his name, a groan pushed itself from his lips -- made him tremble all the way down his spine. But, he did pull back to look at her with dilated eyes, cradling her cheek in a hand as he read the question in her gaze. " -- you say the word, you tell me to stop, and I will," he told her, his voice rough as his legs shook with the weight of holding himself up. "But -- you ... you tell me what you want, and I'll do that too."

Allison

Allison's fingers paused their movement when he looked at her, her own pupils likely as dilated as his as he touched his hand to her cheek. She felt a rush of desire hit her with his words, breath coming in a little faster at the knowledge that he was leaving it up to her. She doubted that what she wanted didn't match up with what he wanted though, and Allison looked at him with a tentative shyness that flushed her cheeks.

"I-I want you, Stuart." She told him, quietly, because she wasn't so sure what any of this meant - what it would lead them to. Would it change anything? Allison swallowed around the nerves bundling in her stomach before leaning up on her elbows to press her lips to his - her kiss slow but still just as heated as their previous ones, perhaps more so with her desire finally out in the open.

Stuart

He was patient, despite himself, as he waited for the female's response -- his chest was heaving hard between them, his hands trembling as he continued to watch her through curious and anxious eyes; lips parted slightly to suck in deep and shivering breaths.

He couldn't stop himself from letting out a soft moan as she spoke, acknowledging verbally that she wanted him. And Stuart really wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge. With that revelation. He had never had something like this before -- had never been offered an opportunity like this. And he just wanted so bad that he ached. And when she was kissing him eagerly once more, he was pressing into it hard. One hand pressing her into the bed with her shoulder, the other one once more dancing long fingers across her rib cage before that same hand -- tentatively -- was tugging at the edge of her shirt as if asking for it to be removed.

Allison

With his moan, Allison felt a shiver run through her body; it was as though just the knowledge that she wanted him turned him into a mess. As he was pressing her back into the bed, one of Allison's hands returned to skate across the skin at his hips, as the other balled into a fist in the sheets as the realization that this was real made her head spin in heady satisfaction.

Humming against his lips as he tugged at her shirt, Allison shifted until she was pressing back at him - pressing him upwards until she had maneuvered her body far enough from the bed to slide her shirt off - lips parting from his for only a second before she was pulling him back against her, discarding her shirt to the side as her fingers pushed at the edges of his own shirt in response.

Stuart

He let out a soft whimper as Allison feathered her hands against his hips -- pressing them into her fleetingly before she was pulling away to tug her shirt off. Keen ambers raked over her body as he wet his lips, swallowing compulsively before she was pulling him back into her and tugging at his shirt. He moaned, a noise that vibrated his whole chest, before he was fumbling blindly before them -- arching his back up to remove his shirt and toss it to the side without looking. Now that that piece of business was taken care of, he was back up against her.

He was pressing in harshly against her lips once more, pressing the bare flesh of his chest against hers, and nuzzling into her neck. One hand moved around her rib cage -- feathering over warm skin, to press into her back and began to attempt to fumble with the clasp of her bra -- the other hand shoving itself up under the wire of the front of her bra to explore, cupping long fingers around one breast as he pressed his center up against her leg.

Allison

Each touch from her warranted a response of eager receptiveness, and with his shirt gone, Allison found herself incapable of keeping her hands away. Her fingers slid down his shoulders, along the curves of muscle that responded with his movements as he pressed into her once more - sending a shudder through her body at the contact of their skin. Her answering kiss was eager before he was leaving her lips bare once again, nuzzling into her neck and soliciting a sigh of need from the huntress.

Her body arched against his touch, his excitement against her leg a reminder of what was to come as his warm fingers slid beneath her bra. She did not move to help him unclasp her bra, unable to tear her hands from his hips, where they had settled as she moved her body against his.

Stuart

Stuart had never been touched before -- never anything that wasn't a shoulder clasp or a hug from someone. And -- god, he didn't know how he lasted this long without it. Her hands felt like they created sparks in their wake as the wandered around his back -- as they explored his muscles before dipping down to his hips, the bones there rolling against her hands as he slowly rutted against her hip.

He was mouthing once more at her neck -- wetly and hotly -- and it took him a few tries to finally unlatch her bra before it was coming free, managing to tug tug it off and away from her and off the bed. The one on one breast moved to test her nipple there, the other hand -- having completed its mission -- settled long, broad fingers against her shoulder blade.

Allison

Allison moaned as his attention moved to her nipple, the combination of his mouth on her neck and his touch on her breast sending her brain scattering in several directions. One of her hands slid up his back, fingers carding through his hair as her body shivered against his. The feel of him on top of her alone was enough to send her into madness, but the attention he afforded her had her a trembling mess beneath him.

As the hand in his hair settled on his shoulder in a weak grip, her other hand moved from his hip. Sliding her hand between him and her hip, Allison palmed at his erection over his jeans as he solicited another soft moan from her lips with his touch.

Stuart

He shivered hard as her hand carded its way through his hair, continuing to slow rut against her in a way that demanded friction -- his erection growing slightly painful against his denim as he nosed his way back up her neck to grasp at her earlobe with his teeth and suck hard for a few moments.

It was then that she was palming at him through his jeans, and his teeth sunk in harder than he meant it to before he was pulling himself away from her ear with a harsh, " -- Ch.. Christ .." forced him his chest as he pressed his center into her hand. One hand now moved from her back to slip around her front -- dancing across her waist line before slipping down under her waist line until two fingers found a wet, bundle of nerves at her center -- experimenting with a few, circled motions.

Allison

Allison gasped as his teeth sunk down slightly harder on her earlobe, pressing her palm slightly harder against him as he spoke against her ear. She felt his fingers on her skin, a hot trail of anticipating following in their wake. As his fingers dipped below the waistline of her pants, Allison sucked in a breath, before he was finding his mark and her hand on his shoulder was gripping tighter.

Stuart earned a moan for his efforts, before Allison was sliding her hand up his jeans to the button, managing - somehow - to pop them open with one hand as she rolled her hips towards his fingers. His name slipped from her lips, a jumble of moans among it as her body writhed beneath him at the touch she hadn't felt in so long.

Stuart

" -- god," he breathed, his voice hoarse and ruined as he ducked his head down for a brief moment. " .. you're really wet..." His voice was gruff and shaky, and almost very unlike himself as he continued to put pressure on her clit as he circled her -- using her to wet his fingers before he was shifting around just enough to slip one finger inside of her; feeling bold and pumping his finger slightly.

His head was a mess of thoughts as she began to moan under him and writhe -- his heart on hyperdrive as his free hand tried to assist her, grabbing loosely at the edge of his jeans and jerking; pulling both it and his boxers over his ass so that they settled low on his thighs -- this causing his length, and the interest that was showed there, to be exposed.

Allison

Allison heard the shake in his voice, the deepness of it, and it only had her groaning in response to it - to seeing a side of Stuart that was pleasingly different, to know that she could cause him to shake in such a good way. As his finger slid inside of her, Allison rocked her hips towards his finger, "My pants -" She gasped, "Off -" Unable to really form a proper sentence at that point, a mess at the mercy of her desire, Allison fumbled with the zipper on his jeans.

Soon, he was doing the rest of the work for her, pants free before she was raising heavily lidded eyes to his erection, lips parted with hot breaths caused by his busy hand. The hand that had been at his zipper reached for him, taking his length in a grasp that was gentler than the enthusiasm she felt, sliding her thumb over his tip.

Stuart

At the gasp of words from the other, he was soon slipping his hand out from her panties to instead now use both hands to undo her pants -- shaky fingers having a rough time getting them undone before he finally managed to get the button popped and the zipper down; slipping his fingers into the sides of her waistband before slowly tugging downwards.

It was around that time that she was wrapping a hand around his dick -- a choked noise resounding in his throat as his eyes squeezed shut and he was jutting his hips into her hand, despite himself. "Are we ---" he started, words stumbling over themselves, " -- if we're ... - Condom. Nightstand," was all he managed to get out. Now that clothing was less of a factor, even if his jeans still settled around his thighs -- and despite his request for her to grab what they needed -- his hand was once more returning to her clit, two fingers slipping into her as his thumb toyed with the small bundle of nerves -- leaning down to kiss above her breasts as his free hand cupped one of them.

Allison

Allison lifted her hips in an attempt to help him slide off her pants, eyes finding his face as he rocked his hips into her hand. A rush of heat ran from her toes to her ears, face likely turning a brighter shade of pink than it already was - if that was even possible - as she found herself impossibly more attracted to him. Stuart, who never seemed to fumble with his words, was tossing them out in jumbled sentences for only her ears and it felt so irresistibly intimate that Allison had to choose between her desire to make his body shake again with her hand or release him in favor of having them both shake.

As her hand released him, he was slipping his fingers inside of her and she was gasping with the feeling, "Oh, god," she breathed, her body twisting with his fingers as she stretched in an attempt to reach the nightstand. Just barely managing, with fingers that shook from his attention, she found a condom in his nightstand at the same time that a moan spilled from her throat.

Stuart

Despite knowing what she was getting, he couldn't stop himself from touching her ; the one on her breast gently circling her nipple before he was kissing down to join his hand -- tongue sliding over the nipple for a brief moment. His hand inside of her continued its work before he was slipping his hand out of her completely to instead take the foil from her.

In that moment, he did pause very, very briefly, " -- do you want ...?" he asked, his voice breaking off for a moment. Because, while she didn't know this -- Stuart had never done anything like this before. He was out of his depth, and barely treading water. And, somehow, somehow it was more exciting than anything he's ever done.

Allison

She nearly dropped the condom as she rolled her hips with the rhythm of his fingers, a whine escaping her against her will as he suddenly removed them. Fingers releasing the foil to him, her gaze found his, eyebrows raising at his question in wonder. "I-" She paused, sucking in a breath before simply answering with a, "Yes." It made her feel special, somehow, to have him asking her if she wanted to have sex with him when she was the one handing him the condom.

She drank him in then, eyes dragging over him with pupils dilated from her lust and the excitement dwelling in the pit of her stomach from his eager touch. His tousled hair and his body shaking with heavy breaths and maybe nerves - nerves that she felt bundling up in herself as well as she almost began to consider what it meant doing this without any sort of discussion. But she tossed the thought aside when her eyes met his again, feeling desire drip from her, a need for him that Allison didn't think she'd ever really felt for anyone in her life making her almost impatient to have him pressed against her once more.

Stuart

Stuart waited -- much too patiently for his body to enjoy -- for her response. Once she did respond, however, he felt a heat hike up in him before he was shifting around on the bed once more. He moved to completely remove his jeans and boxers -- kicking them off to the floor -- before he was fumbling with the condom. He had never put one on before, but he assumed that it was pretty self explanatory.

His eyes drew back up to her in time to see her dragging her eyes over him -- and, oh ... that was an odd feeling. The heat that surged at the back of his neck and twisted in his stomach. He had never had anyone look at him that way. And, it made him slightly anxious -- anxious that he was going to screw something up in this. But, he bit down on those thoughts and pressed in against her again ; pressing her back against the bed with a hand on her chest -- between her breasts -- as his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock.

He lined himself up, distracting her by kissing her -- long, and hard -- as his breathing shook. And, honestly, it took him a few embarrassing tries to find her hole blind, but he was soon finding it with his tip before easing in just a little. And, with that, just that little bit, a broken gasp left his lips against hers.

Allison

Allison, caught in her gazing, smiled at Stuart shyly - cheeks heating at the thought of what was coming next. As he pushed her back against the bed, Allison bit the shy smile from her lips, though his kiss was soon releasing her teeth from her lip and causing her to completely not care that he seemed to have some trouble finding his mark.

Still, when he did, and he gasped against her lips, Allison's insides turned to liquid. "Stuart," She breathed his name into his mouth, tone reverent and heady as one of her hands moved from the sheets to the back of his neck, lips reaching for his. In an attempt to encourage him, Allison nipped at his lower lip before catching it between her teeth and sucking just slightly. Her fingers scratched gently at the back of his neck, touch tender but needy - wanting.

Stuart

The magic user let out a rough groan as he swallowed the whisper of his name -- and he knew that he could never get tired of hearing his name like that, if given that chance. As she reached for his neck and brought him back in, he was eager to comply -- even if it was nothing but uncoordinated and desperate harsh breaths against her lips, raking his teeth across her bottom lip.

He shivered at the feeling of her nails against the back of his neck before he was pushing himself more so into her, using a hand against her hip to keep the both of them steady as he began to slowly set a messy rhythm with his hips -- a noise that almost sounded like a sob at just how tight --- just how warm. " ... Allison... -"

Allison

With each breath that fanned across her parted lips, Allison drew further from the worries of her day and closer into the bubble that seemed to hold time still around them - one that let her forget the worry of what this meant for them.

She took her name on his lips like a precious gift, high on the sounds that he was making because of her. His touch set her hip alight, a fire blazing in her abdomen as he moved, her hips slowly finding his pace and moving with him - a moan the only sound she made in response to the sound of her name.

Stuart

His breathing was harsh and shaky -- choking and strangling him until he could barely breathe. And he knew -- god, he knew that he wasn't going to last long at all. And, with that in mind, he was shifting a little so that he could slip one of his hands in between them to once more began to circle her clit -- just as disorganized as his thrusts.

Which, speaking of those, they began to get more and more sporadic as his breathing hitched and heaved -- his free hand gripping at her thigh. "S -- shit... .. I'm .. I'm really close."

Allison

Allison gasped as he reached between their bodies to touch her, too far gone - too scattered in lust - to care that he seemed inexperienced. Her own touch was scattered, fingers against his neck shaking as they slid to grip at his shoulder tightly.

The hand that had been clutching at the sheets until he spoke moved to his lower back, nails scratching at the skin clumsily, "Stuart," She whined as she felt herself tense with the ache that built in her stomach.

Stuart

The gasp from the other pulled another muted groan from the witch -- low and deep as he curled his head into her neck; squeezing his eyes shut as she whined out his name, speaking hers in a prayer against her flesh -- heated and heavy -- as he gave a few more harsh snaps of his hips before he was tensing up.

His hand against her center slowed briefly as he pulsed inside of her -- biting down loosely at the curve of her neck to muffle a high cry as he hit his limit.

Allison

His breath fanned against her throat and Allison shuddered at the sound of her name, fingers tightening at his shoulder as he pumped into her before he stilled. The sound of his muffled cry, mixed with the sudden slowness of his fingers on her clit had her rocking her hips down against him, biting her lip at the slight pain of his teeth on her throat.

It was a moment later that his slow fingers managed to coax her orgasm from her, tensing around him as she let out a moan of her own - louder than she was proud to admit - as her nails bit into his shoulder, too light to leave marks that would last long.

Stuart

He flinched as her nails bit into his shoulders -- wincing only slightly as he allowed himself to fully come down from his orgasm and smoothing his free hand down her side. He kissed the area where his teeth had sunk in apologetically to soothe it -- panting hard and shaking quite noticeably as he worked her through her orgasm ; eyes still closed as he let himself fully comprehend the fact that he did this. He was able to make her cum -- he made her feel good. And she wanted him. It was a lot of information that he wasn't used to processing.

Finally, though, once they both came down, he was slowly and gently easing himself out of her -- whimpering at the over sensitivity of his lax length.

Allison

Allison felt him flinch and despite herself, she felt instantly apologetic - though her mind was elsewhere as he helped her through her orgasm. When she was just as shaking of a mess as he was, chest heaving with the weight and frequency of her breaths, Allison smoothed her fingers over his shoulder where she had dug her nails in - the marks red but already fading away.

She simply stared at him as he whimpered, expression then both vulnerable and tentative, brows drawing together as her strung-out body shook beneath his and her brain began to function enough to understand what had happened - that he had wanted her. Though, some small demon in the back of her mind told her that he didn't, Allison swallowed the lump that the thought brought to her throat.

Stuart

He fumbled between them with a thick throat to tug off the condom -- tossing it somewhere on his nightstand to discard later. He had no idea what to say in that moment. It wasn't supposed to go this far? This was really nice, but you're probably not going to see me again? I'm turning myself in tomorrow morning? He knew none of that would go down well, and -- oh, that pain. It was new and terrifying. It felt like his chest was dropping in on itself. His heart was aching, swallowing thickly as he settled himself down on the bed.

"Do you .... want to sleep here? It's late," he finally decided on, voice soft and more gentle than she had probably ever heard it.

Allison

Allison watched him, feeling the twist in her stomach of bad nerves as he remained silent. Her breathing came under her control easily, until her chest merely lifted with breaths that had been silenced despite the nerves and the activities from only moments before.

When he spoke, Allison rolled onto her side to look at him, propping herself up slightly on her elbow. "Is that okay?" She stumbled over her words, voice quiet and nervous in the face of the gentility of his voice; it was so unfamiliar to her, and evasive of the question that she really wanted to ask.

Stuart

Stuart rolled his teeth across his lower lip -- and he knew that his answer should be no. He should have her leave before the hurt for her later became worse. He should -- but, for once in his life, the witch was being selfish. He didn't know what awaited him when he turned himself in, and he wanted ... something good to hold onto -- to call back on.

So, instead, he offered her a small and tired smile as he nodded, "If it wasn't, I wouldn't have offered," he responded in a soft tone.

Allison

In movements that were slow and unsure and so unlike her, she acknowledged his words by moving closer to him and tucking her head onto his chest. She felt her heart twist as she rested a hand on his waist, cuddled up against him in a way that felt right but also seemed so wrong with the weight of whatever was unsaid between them. But he would be there in the morning - she could ask her questions and enjoy that moment, cuddled up against him.

Allison's eyes settled closed slowly, relaxing against him as she finally set herself at ease - knowing that she would have time to ask him what any of this meant. They would have time to figure this out, because if there was one constant in her life now, it seemed to be Stuart. "Night, Stu," She murmured, a sigh leaving her lips on the tail-end of his shortened name, tired and just the slightest bit content.

Stuart

His heart gave a powerful and painful twinge in his chest when she curled up against him -- the pretenses of future guilt already hitting him harder than anything he could have expected from this. But, he swallowed it down as he thinned both of his lips together tightly. And instead was draping his arm over her waist and tugging her slightly closer -- selfishly allowing himself to enjoy her company and warmth, burrowing himself into her hair and closing his eyes.

He just hoped that she didn't hate him after tomorrow. His heart jolted again at the simple and tired Stu that fell from her lips -- the corner of his own twitching as he swallowed, " -- goodnight, Allison," he whispered just as softly.

#mission : chatzy #c: a. argent #chatzy log 004

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thcpariiah · 7 years

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log : bad _ blood.docx

► TAGGING __ // STUART TWOMBLY, STILES STILINSKI ► LOCATION __// BARRACKS OF THE UNDERGROUND ► TIME FRAME__// A FEW DAYS AGO … ► INPUT_SUMMARY…?__// [ CHATZY LOG ] Stiles receives a personal message from the infamous “Pariah”, requesting to meet at the Barracks in the Underground. Stiles is not prepared for what he finds.

► ► Encoded Message from The Pariah to The Spark : Meet me at The Underground in the Barracks at 0930. Do not reply.

Stu:

At this point, Stuart had no choice but to finally flee from his shelter in the shadows to go into the - thankfully - open arms of the rebellion. Time was too precious to look back – to mourn for the place he had somehow made home for the past four years. He had to suck it up and finally face the backlash that would come because of his blood and appearance. He had messaged Deaton first - right after he set the shelter he had been in ablaze - with an SOS and coordinates on where to have a scout meet him.

It had been Alan Deaton himself who risked meeting him in the sewers of Beacon Hills. Stuart had been shocked, as per his understanding, Deaton rarely ever went Topside - even if this was more Purgatory than anything. He was also met with shock, and Stuart explained as best and quickly as he could. And thankfully, the good Druid took it all in stride and escorted him to the Underground and showed him where his private quarters would be.

His one request was to keep his identity hidden until he could speak with Stiles. And now – he had sent the message out and waited in Stiles’ quarters in the barracks; pacing nervously as he watched the door.

Stiles

Stiles had spent a solid 60 seconds staring at his computer screen in shock after the message had come in. He’d had contact with The Pariah for years, and never once had he ever suggested that they should meet face to face. This was a big deal, and the second that the initial shock wore off, he was grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

He made his way to the Underground as quickly as he could, anxiety coursing through his body as he neared the barracks. Stiles had never expected to meet the Pariah, and he only hoped that the reason they were meeting now wasn’t because something bad had happened. Pausing briefly, Stiles stood at the door before opening it and entering the room.

Wide eyes landed on the figure pacing the room, and he’d been about to offer up a greeting, but what he saw before him caused him to freeze, his face twisting into a look of confusion. Stiles looked into nearly identical eyes to his, unsure if what he was seeing was even real.

Stu:

The male sucked in a harsh breath through his nose when he heard the door open - hesitating briefly before he was drawing his eyes upwards to look at the other. Seeing him was a lot more … jarring than he anticipated. He had seen pictures and even security camera footage. But seeing him in person was much more shocking than he could’ve initially anticipated.

Not to mention, he wasn’t prepared for the draw to the other that he felt that caused his jaw to tighten fleetingly. He had read about twins who shared the same powers - but always thought it was exaggerated.

He let out a breath to level himself as he manage to make eye contact. “- Stiles,” he greeted softly.

Stiles

Almost stranger than the fact that Stiles was looking at an exact replica of himself was the tug he felt toward the other man. The pull was so strong that it was almost uncomfortable, and he grimaced slightly as he continued to stare.

He huffed out a shocked laugh as the man greeted him. Stiles had always referred to the other as the Pariah, and now he was at a loss of what to say. “This isn’t weird at all,” he replied, the sarcasm he’d been intending not quite making it into his tone. “I don’t understand…who are you?”

Stu: Stuart thinned his lips with a long breath as he tucked his hands into his pockets. He knew that it was unfair that he knew of Stiles, but the other knew nothing of him. And Stuart could only assume that his birth parents never told Stiles about the deceased twin. He hesitated before he was speaking softly. “My name is Stuart.”

Stiles: Stiles’ fingers tapped against his thigh for a moment before he finally spoke. “So, what? I’ve just had this twin my entire life, and nobody thought it might be a good idea to let me know?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration. Though they had never met face to face, he could assume that Stuart had seen pictures of him before, and he wondered if the other man had known who he was the entire time.

Stu: Stuart sighed heavily and thinned his lips briefly as his eyes flickered downwards for a moment. Stuart wasn’t good at things like this - high emotion interactions. It made him anxious. The other sucked in a long breath. “According to hospital records, I died. I-” Stuart paused, grabbing a small folder out of the bag he had brought with him. “I got this from the archives of Beacon Hills Memorial. Has two certificates of life birth, and one death certificate. As well as paperwork from the attending about how the body of the baby went missing from the morgue.” Facts were much easier for Stuart. “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know until the law was passed - I was leaving home at the time because I ..-” he trailed off and shook his head. “I didn’t have anything left for me there.”

Stiles: “You died And your body went missing?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows knitting together as he grabbed the folder from Stuart and attempted to make sense of that information. The fact that Stuart had come back from the dead wasn’t altogether that surprising– nothing truly surprised him about the supernatural anymore. The fact that his dad had never thought that it might be important to mention this to him, however, was what had shocked him. “The law was passed four years ago!” Stiles burst out, that information not making him feel better at all. “Who else knows? Does my dad know you’re alive?”

Stiles: “You died? And your body went missing?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows knitting together as he grabbed the folder from Stuart and attempted to make sense of that information. The fact that Stuart had come back from the dead wasn’t altogether that surprising– nothing truly surprised him about the supernatural anymore. The fact that his dad had never thought that it might be important to mention this to him, however, was what had shocked him. “The law was passed four years ago!” Stiles burst out, that information not making him feel better at all. “Who else knows? Does my dad know you’re alive?”

Stu: “So they say–” was his soft response when Stiles responded about his death, swallowing hard and thinning his lips - watching as the other skimmed over the folder he had given him. Stuart let out a soft sigh as Stiles continued to ask questions. “I know when the law was passed,” he murmured. “I’ve been in contact with Deaton since the third month - but that part you should already know.” He sighed then, “Just Deaton. I wasn’t raised with the last name Stilinski. It’s Twombly. My adopted parents surname.” He cleared his throat and gestured to the file, “That, by the way, is classified information. No one living knows my given name. No one but you, now. I figured you at least deserve that.”

Stiles: Stiles’ eyes flicked from the certificates in his hand back to Stuart’s face. “What do you think really happened?” he asked, setting the folder back down. He nodded as Stuart said that the only other person who knew was Deaton, though he still couldn’t believe that the druid had known and kept that information from him for so long. Stiles crossed his arms across his chest, eyes once more averting away from his twin, and he shrugged. “I’m not going to tell anybody your name,” he said quietly.

Stu: He sighed and thinned his lips, looking to the closed folder. “I honestly don’t know completely. I can’t connect all the pieces-” he admitted hoarsely. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense, to be honest. I-” he cleared his throat once more before gesturing to Stiles’ handicap. “I have magic too. But, legally, both Stuart Stilinski and Stuart Twombly is dead. Right before the law was passed, my family home burned to the ground. But – I was always different than magic users. I’ve always had my powers. I never had to –.. spark. Which is extremely abnormal. The ones who burned down my house –” Stuarted faltered, averting his eyes and recomposing himself. “A witch coven. I think they’re the ones who took me from the hospital.”

Stiles: Stiles’ nodded as Stuart explained that he had magic too, wondering if that was the reason for the draw he’d felt towards his brother when he’d first entered the room. His eyebrows furrowed, however, when Stuart explained that he’d always had his powers– because Stiles had done his research, and the other was right in the fact that not having to spark was extremely abnormal. It was a lot of information all at once, and he focused on the end. “A witch coven?” he questioned. “Why would they burn down your house if they were the ones to take you from the hospital in the first place?”

Stu: This wasn’t really relevant, his own past – but, if it made Stiles feel more at ease, then he could attempt it. Even if it brought to the surface emotions that he still wasn’t prepared to deal with four years later. Emotions were hard for Stuart, they were harder for him to process. “I’m under the impression that my adopted parents took me from them. When they showed up at the home when it was burning, they seemed very …” he struggled for the right wording, “Ill-willed. A coven usually made of thirteen witches. They had twelve. I think they took me from the hospital to be part of them, and my parents knew of them and knew that if they got that powerful that things could go downhill. I was already legally dead in Beacon Hills, so they couldn’t bring me back here. So they raised me. But the coven found them again and I guess they assumed that if they explained everything, and left me nothing to go back to, that I would join them.”

Stiles: Stiles’ eyes fell as Stuart spoke, a frown settling over his face. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. As much as losing his mom had hurt, even at just eight years old he had at least known that it was probably coming, given how quickly her frontotemporal dementia had progressed. He couldn’t imagine coming home to a burning house and finding his dad dead. “Do you think the coven is still looking for you?” Stiles asked, assuming that the answer was yes. If they had actively been trying to get Stuart to join their coven for 16 years, he didn’t imagine that they would give up so easily, even if his brother had disappeared for the past four years.

Stu:

The corner of Stuart’s lips twitched at the apology – eyebrows furrowing inwards as amber hues drifted downwards to the floor between them. He didn’t respond to it, he merely fell silent for a long moment for the things he was forced to lose and pick himself back up from in a very short time. Talking about it was never easy; so he merely opted not to do so. They may have not been completely truthful about a lot of things, but they were still his parents. They still raised him and sacrificed for him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted off handedly. “I would honestly think that they have more important things to worry about, now. Besides. I don’t believe, at this point in time, that they could find me even if they wanted to. I wouldn’t worry about the coven. I don’t.”

Stiles: Then Stuart was quiet, and Stiles was almost regretting voicing the apology. He looked back up, now finding that Stuart’s eyes were fixed on the floor. He knew that saying that he was sorry didn’t make it any better, and when Stuart responded only to his question, he was more than happy to let the subject of his brother’s adoptive parents drop. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said with a shrug. Even if the coven was looking for him, Stuart obviously did a very good job of keeping himself hidden.

Stu: Stuart fell quiet for a moment longer, crossing both arms over his chest as he let out a long breath. “I plan on continuing to do what I have been for the past four years,” he started, eager to continue to change the subject away from his past. Even if, now more than ever, it wasn’t crystal clear as to why he had been doing this for the past four years for a group of people he didn’t even know. “I would … – I would really appreciate bringing myself out to the other members down here on my own terms. I’ve been alone for the past four years, it’ll be a challenge to ease my way into it. Even if I didn’t look the way that I do. I just … – I figured it was only right, letting you know. You out of everyone else deserved to know.”

Stiles: Almost as if he had read Stuart’s mind, a confused look fell over Stiles’ face. “Why have you been doing this the past four years, anyway?” he asked. The other had obviously done a good job of isolating himself and remaining hidden. He would have had no problem doing just that and staying away from them. “I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it, I just…don’t really understand.” Stiles just nodded, wondering just how much longer Stuart was going to take to reveal his identity to the rest of the underground.

Stu: A low breath escaped the witch as he tucked his hands into his pockets, eyes finding the floor between them once again. “– what else do I have, besides this?” He asked the other after a long moment. “I obviously don’t agree with the laws. It gives me something to do - something to trust in and put my belief in. It gives me a purpose. Where, otherwise, I would just be in hiding day in and day out without any progress being made. I would be stagnant. I don’t like being stagnant.” Stuart may not admit it to himself, but he also felt - since he was young - that he wanted to be a part of something that meant something.

Stiles: “I guess you’ve got a point,” Stiles replied, his eyes on Stuart even as his brother looked at the floor. He supposed that that was what he’d been doing since he’d been dragged into the supernatural world in the first place: trying to find a sense of purpose. At first, he’d mostly just been interested in helping his friends. As time went on, especially after the handicap law had been enacted, Stiles had become more interested in the greater cause. “What’s your plan now then?”

Stu: “ – to keep doing what I’ve been doing,” he murmured, shrugging his shoulder a bit before he was looking up at the twin once more ; the expression in honeydew irises almost unreadable. “Just from here instead of where I was. I have a bit of backtracking to do to get back to where I was, but it shouldn’t take me too long.”

Stiles: "Okay," Stiles murmured back, his hand moving to rub at the back of his neck anxiously, still completely unsure of how to deal with the fact that he had a twin he'd never known about. "Just...let me know if I can help?"

Stu: He felt a geninue smile tug at the corner of his lips -- because, well. That surprised him. He didn't know how Stiles was going to react to him ; what kind of backlash he would get from the twin. It was ... reassuring, to say the least, at the other's offer to help. "I will. Thank you ... Stiles."

Stiles: Stiles offered a small smile back at his brother. He was still slightly frustrated that it had taken four years for Stuart to come clean about the fact that they shared the same face. Still, Stuart had been incredibly helpful during that time, and at the end of the day, they were family. He wanted to help Stuart in any way that he could. Rather than responding, he nodded back at his twin.

#mission : chatzy #chatzy log 001 #c: s. stilinski

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