#plot twissstttt!!!

[sobriquetcollective]

💓 for Stiles

Send 💓 for a heated kiss. | all open memes

In response to this drabble you wrote for me from the same meme

Stiles pouted and fumed on the couch the whole time he could hear Derek putzing around in the kitchen making sandwiches. Curse him for being RIGHT about what would ultimately get Stiles to shut up and sit still. Caring for his sprained ankle with less gentle concern and more… assertive command. Seriously, not even fair. 

Once the werewolf returned with a PB&J sandwich –cut diagonally, properly– he leaned over the couch to hand it to his charge with one of his normal casual grunts. 

But when Stiles reached out, it wasn’t for the plate, but for Derek’s shirt collar. He pulled the werewolf down, knocking away the arm that the other tried to throw out to brace himself, leaving Derek no way to avoid landing solidly on Stiles’ chest. The human wasted no time catching his companion’s lips as soon as they were in range, and taking advantage of the breath being knocked out of him to deepen the contact. With the full weight of the well-muscled werewolf on top of him, Stiles ran his hands appreciatively down that defined torso to his waist, holding Derek in to show him just where he wanted him.

Once the momentum of the fall settled, and the elder’s hands were free to explore and claim territory of their own, Stiles felt his heartbeat pick up at the fervor with which his kiss was returned. Thoughts of PB&J sandwiches and sprained ankle were easily lost to firm hands and hungry mouths as the heat mounted between the pair. 

[sobriquetcollective]

💔 for Stiles ( wearethestorm: Theo ) :P

@wearethestorm Theo + Stiles = ThilesSend 💔 for an interrupted kiss. | all open memes

Stiles was giddy with relief in the aftermath of the battle, because, somehow, all their friends were alive. (Even their not-friends-but-still-allies had survived.) Not without injury, of course, as he observed everyone checking each other over to make sure their wounds were healing–Derek and Chris tiredly leaning against one another, Malia trying her best to ignore Peter’s concern while tending Lydia’s swollen wrist, Jackson and Ethan holding each other in their own little world, Scott cataloging everyone just the same as he was, both nodding when they came to the same conclusion. 

And Stiles could hear, on the other side of the partition he sat against, Mason’s voice sounding strained: “It’s fine.It’s just last week’s bullet wound. I don’t need you to take the pain.”And then Theo: “I can do it. I can care.”

Concerned, Stiles convinced his exhausted body to stand and circled the barrier, only to find a wholly unexpected sight that made him wonder if maybe he’d gotten a concussion after all: Mason propped up against the wall, hands held against the bandages sealing his older injury, and the surprising part in that Theo was leaning over him and kissing him, with the faint grayish trickles indicating that the pain-sharing was working. Stiles blinked in bewilderment a few moments, and while he was doing so, Liam’s and Corey’s voices approached behind him– “I saw him over here last,” “You’re sure he’s okay?”–before they, too, came to a halt staring.

“Hey,” Stiles found himself saying with a self-conscious gulp as he interrupted the two. He squared his shoulders and continued, more confidently this time. “I thought it was me that you missed.” And before he could overthink it, Stiles was pulling Theo up by a fistful of his shirt and pushing him back against the wall, latching a bold kiss to his mouth.